Suitably Wed
by megosborne
Summary: Follow Three Weeks in Kent. Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are set to marry but how can they maintain the pretence of convenience when it's clear their feelings are genuine? Lizzy's happiness is stymied only by the knowledge that Jane has been abandoned by Mr Bingley - but is he being manipulated into leaving Hertfordshire and her sister behind?
1. Chapter 1

"Is everything to your satisfaction, sir?"

Fitzwilliam Darcy dismissed his housekeeper with a curt nod. Everything was, of course, to his satisfaction - exactly so, for his staff knew him well, and kept his London townhouse in a state of perpetual readiness for his return. They had also been warned of his approaching arrival, and so had taken extra care to ensure the property would be welcoming. He smiled, faintly, recalling the fresh bouquet of winter flowers in the parlour, and the fires burning brightly in the few rooms he most favoured: notably, the study. That had no doubt received a particular airing that very day, and the newspapers and his personal correspondence left ready for his perusal on the desk.

He waited for the door close behind him before reaching for the small pile of letters. He could identify the handwriting of his steward at Pemberley, and laid that particular missive aside, not in any mood for business at present. Of his next two, he recognised Georgiana's elegant script, and tucked that into the pocket of his waistcoat, to read at his leisure. The third he did not immediately recognise but broke the seal to discover a short note from his cousin. Richard and Mary had reached Philip's home and would be pleased to welcome him there at any time, as soon as Darcy wished it. He cracked a wry smile, reading Richard's true intention behind the short summons. _Do come_ _,_ he implored. _For in visiting my brother I am facing a trial and would welcome a distraction._ It was not without self-interest that his cousin inquired after the health of Miss Elizabeth, and queried any potential timeline for Darcy's own upcoming nuptials and the plans of their friends to be in London.

Darcy pulled a chair close to his desk, and slid his writing implements nearer, dashing off a quick, encouraging note to his cousin. He promised they would both be back in London within the week, and should Philip wish him to visit, both he and Elizabeth would be delighted to call on the Fitzwilliams at their earliest convenience. _And you and Mary will both attend our wedding, I hope, so we shall see each other again very soon._ He finished with a flourish, content that this promise would soothe Richard's mood, and trusting that the newness of wedded bliss would more than make up for the trial of spending the month in such close proximity with the brother he loathed.

The first question, enquiring after Elizabeth's health and the progress of their wedding plans, Darcy considered even after he had sealed the note and set it on a tray to one side, trusting that his valet would dispatch it before the afternoon was out.

He had left Hertfordshire that very morning, grateful that London was but half a day's ride, and glad that he might make the journey between Bingley's home and his own relatively quickly and painlessly. It would make organising things so much easier - not that there need be much organising. Elizabeth had stipulated that she did not wish for a lavish wedding, which he was more than happy to deliver. He had no great interest in fuss and finery, yet he was equally determined that they would not slink away to marry as if they were doing something shameful. Despite his aunt's insistence, he would not apologise for his actions, nor for his desire to marry Elizabeth and not Anne. It would enable Elizabeth an escape from an impossible marriage, and - he could confess the truth to himself, in the silence and solitude of his own study - he loved her, more than he had ever loved any woman before. He could not quite believe how swiftly the feeling had overtaken him but he would continue to swallow it and conceal it from all view. He knew, if he had spoken to her of his esteem it would not have resulted in an engagement, but a refusal, for she would surely doubt his feelings, if not despise him for them. But the simplicity of a convenient marriage, when it would serve them both so amiably, could not be despaired of. She had accepted, and he trusted that she would grow to love him in time. That was a challenge he would happily accept, for the rest of his days, if he might one day win her heart as well as her mind.

Lost in a happy daydream of what life might be like once they were married, Darcy did not hear the knock on his door, so that it took a second and a third before he stirred, and welcomed whoever knocked with a muttered: "Come!"

"Good morning, sir. A visitor." His servant bowed.

"Here?" Darcy's eyebrows raised. Who on earth knew him to be at home today? He had told nobody, save for Charles. Even Elizabeth was only aware that he would be travelling between and betwixt London and Hertfordshire on occasion, but he had not thought it necessary to give her exact dates and times when he was himself unsure of them.

"Who?"

"Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"Already?" Darcy could barely keep the amused grin from his features, as he hurried to join his cousin in the parlour. "Richard!" he accosted him. "How came you to know I was here?"

"I called on the off-chance you might be," Richard said. "It is not my first visit to your house this week," he admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh. "Now, cousin, I know there are arrangements to be made, and as my dear wife seems perfectly content with her new sister, and my brother cannot be pressed to discuss a thing beyond business, if he is content to discuss a thing at all, I find myself utterly without occupation. Put me to what needs doing. I am at your service!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Charlotte, how good it is to see you again!" Elizabeth's friend had called at Longbourn and managed, with a little persuasion, to extract Elizabeth from the raucous bosom of her family on the promise of a walk to Meryton. Jane could not be pressed into joining them, for she was waiting on a very important communique from Netherfield, and thus would not surrender her position in the window for even a moment.

"And you, Lizzy." Charlotte's voice was strained, and the smile she offered her friend was a tentative one. "I hear I must offer you congratulations."

Lizzy smiled.

"Thank you. I trust you are not too scandalised by the news?"

"Scandalised?" Charlotte's eyes widened. "Why ever would I be that? Surprised, I will allow. I had no notion of you sharing an affection with Mr Darcy. In fact, I laboured under the impression that your feelings for him were quite different."

Elizabeth laughed, unable to deny the truth of her friend's comment.

"What must have occurred in Kent for your feelings to have undergone so fundamental a shift?" Charlotte asked. "I have been patient until now, but Lizzy, you must put me out of my misery and tell me!"

Elizabeth explained a little of the kindness Mr Darcy had shown her on arriving in Kent, how they had found some commonality of opinion that was as much a surprise to Elizabeth as it was to her friend.

"And he offered me a way out," she confided, slowing to a stop. She took Charlotte's hand in both of hers. "Charlotte, I was suitably chastened by your words to me in Meryton shortly before Mary's engagement. I feared you were right, and I was being abominably selfish in refusing Mr Collins. Worse still: I was not willing to surrender my future on account that my family might be shielded from poverty. Does that make me a terrible person?"

Charlotte shook her head, patiently.

"Lizzy, you must permit me to apologise. I spoke quite out of turn to you that day. It was no place of mine to interfere in your business, nor to lecture you on the best course of action." She shrugged, self-deprecatingly. "As you can see I am certainly no expert in matters of the heart…or of matrimony. I confess I spoke to you out of my own fears. How you could refuse a man seeking to marry you, I could not imagine, never having had so much as an offer myself."

This sobered Elizabeth, and her excitement over her own rapidly approaching wedding softened slightly, as she acknowledged her friend's sad smile.

"But -"

"You need not pander to my pride, Lizzy. I am aware my situation is not uncommon, nor anything to be rejoiced in. If I were to receive an offer of marriage, I should accept it straight away, fearing all the while that I might never have another. You do not share my fate, as is proven by Mr Darcy's proposal. Dear Lizzy, I wish you every happiness. And see, you were right after all: you might marry for love, and still, all will be well. I am genuinely happy for you."

"Yes." Lizzy's face fell. She had not confided quite all to her friend, and now, judging from Charlotte's assessment of her own fortune, felt that she must.

"Charlotte, I must confess something more to you. Mr Darcy and I do not marry for love: that is, it is not as straightforward as that."

"Oh?" Charlotte waited patiently for her friend to continue, as the two young ladies began to walk once more in the direction of Meryton.

"His proposal was not the sweeping romance you might imagine, nor was it even uttered so fervently as poor Mr Collins'." Lizzy cringed slightly, remembering the way her cousin had clasped tight hold of her arm, and bid her listen when she strove to keep him from uttering the words they would both immediately come to regret. "In fact, he terms it a "business arrangement".

Charlotte frowned.

"So, you see, you also were proved right. Marriage cannot be merely about love. We must be pragmatic, all of us, and I feel Mr Darcy quite the most _pragmatic_ man I have ever met." She uttered this with a rueful laugh, but Charlotte must have read some disappointment in her comment, for she reached a consoling hand out to her friend.

"Do you _not_ love him?"

"I-" Elizabeth faltered. "I cannot say." She paused, wishing she could permit her friend to see inside her heart and her mind that she might draw her own conclusions and illuminate Elizabeth, for she, who had always known herself so well, could scarcely detect what her true feelings were for her fiancé. "I like him. I care for him as a friend. Yet –" She shook her head. "It hardly matters whether I love him or not, he has made it plain that our marriage is merely one of convenience - of benefit to us both."

"I see." Charlotte nodded, slowly. "And what benefit does Mr Darcy receive from such a match? Forgive me, dear, I do not mean to speak disparagingly of you or your family, you know I value you so very highly. But did Mr Darcy himself not indicate some insurmountable differences between you upon your first coming to his notice?"

This mention of that very first snub caused Elizabeth to blush, and then to laugh, for she recalled how bitterly she had nursed her grudge against Darcy for the comment, and how freely she dismissed it now.

"I dare say he is right, for his aunt certainly possesses the same opinion. Yet he, himself, concedes that we are not so unlike that we might not move forward together. He has offered me a far preferable alternative to marrying Mr Collins: where we would have spent eternity annoying each other, I am quite certain. And in marrying me, he frees his cousin: for Lady Catherine would have him marry her daughter, though they are quite ill-suited to one another and -" Lizzy lowered her voice, though the road was deserted she still feared being overheard. "I have reason to believe that Anne loves another, and she would rue the marriage with Mr Darcy for keeping her from her true love. You and I may not see true love ourselves, Charlotte, but that need not keep us from encouraging it in others." She looped her arm through her friend's and pulled her into a speedier walk. "But come, you must tell me of all I have missed. I will be leaving Hertfordshire again soon - too soon, surely, to catch up with everybody, so I will trust you to keep me appraised of all that has happened in the past month. How is Miss Bingley?" Her eyes sparkled at the mention of Caroline Bingley, who she had yet to reunite with and could only imagine the reception she would receive when Caroline heard that it was Elizabeth, and not she, who had secured Mr Darcy's hand.

"You have not heard?" Charlotte asked. "Why, I felt certain that Jane would have told you. Caroline seeks to remove to London as soon as possible. I felt certain it was a rumour, for Mr Bingley appeared set to stay in Hertfordshire, but it seems his sister is agitating to move. I fancy they will be gone before the week is out, even more so if Mr Darcy will be there."

"To London?" Elizabeth's face fell. "I wonder why Jane did not mention as much?" Her heart sank. She had been so distracted by her own fledgeling engagement, and in settling Mary's marriage, that she had not spared a thought for Jane. In fact, she had thought her sister and Mr Bingley so in tune with one another, so very close to becoming engaged themselves that she scarcely worried for their future. If Caroline sought to remove, and Mr Bingley would leave Jane before either could truly settle their feelings, what would that mean for her sister's happiness?


	3. Chapter 3

"Have there been any letters?"

Charles Bingley's anxious voice carried into the parlour where Caroline was sitting, and he sounded so dejected that for half a moment she regretted what she had done. Sliding her book open, she reached for the note she had slipped there earlier that morning. Charles had left it out ready to send to Netherfield, but fortunately, she had intercepted it before any of the servants could be dispatched to take it. She had not yet been able to bring herself to read its contents, but, as it was evident that Charles was eager for a response, she felt a sudden pressing interest in what question the letter contained. Taking the slightest of breaths, she broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter, quickly scanning her brother's spidery hand and feeling her heart rate increase. There! In a letter, of all places, Charles Bingley had asked for Jane Bennet's hand in marriage. Not in so many words, of course. Her brother might be a fool, but even he understood the importance of such a question. No, he had merely asked if he might be permitted to call upon the family that afternoon, and speak personally to Miss Bennet _and her father_. That was a plain enough indication of his intent as any might require. He wished to speak to both Jane and Mr Bennet on the question of marriage: his to Miss Bennet. With a muffled sigh of rage, Caroline folded the letter back up and slid it safely back between the pages of her novel, which she closed with a thump, and hid beneath one of the couch cushions.

Why were men such idiots? First Fitzwilliam Darcy had allowed his good sense to be clouded by that devious Eliza Bennet, and now Charles was following suit and proposing to her sister! At least her brother's folly had been visible on the horizon since their first arrival in Hertfordshire. She had known it would only be a matter of time before she had to intervene more directly in her brother's life to prevent him from blundering into a marriage he would come to regret. _And what of me?_ she railed, internally. _Does he not care one whit for my future? What prospects will I have open to me if he determines on aligning himself with such a family?_ She had tired of Hertfordshire almost before they had arrived there: indeed she had stayed only so as to remain in close proximity to Mr Darcy, who was the only eligible gentleman for miles around. She had dared to hope that he might begin to feel some affection for her too, but clearly, that had been a mistake on her part, for he had been only too eager to run away to Kent with that cousin of his and then to return, engaged! The thought of it made Caroline's blood boil. Oh, she had managed to smile and congratulate him just as ably as Charles had, although she fancied Darcy dared to look the tiniest bit chastened when she met his gaze, and she wondered, then, if the engagement was quite so happy an occasion as her brother insisted on making it. Charles had only narrowly been stopped from declaring a holiday and planning a ball to celebrate his friend's good fortune.

"A meal, Charles, if there must be anything at all," Darcy had committed to, but he had been so rarely at Netherfield the past few days that even that had not yet been fixed in their calendar.

 _A meal,_ Caroline thought sourly. _And who might we invite, pray? The Bennet family and their friends the Lucases, no doubt._ Caroline did not relish the thought of spending an evening with any of them, let alone all of them together. And to see everyone fawning over Elizabeth and Mr Darcy as if they were so well-suited a couple made her skin crawl. Surely anybody with sense could see them a most dreadfully mismatched pair. _I could tell as much from our very first introduction,_ she thought, with a sniff. _And Mr Darcy said the same. Evidently, in our absence, she has bewitched him in some way. He would never have made such a decision in his right mind._

Yes, Mr Darcy's betrayal had stung, yet she had vented her feelings about that in beating several pillows into shape and censuring a few servants who had the misfortune to cross her path when she was most annoyed. Charles' situation she still possessed the opportunity to remedy, before the inevitable engagement was announced.

Slipping the note into her hand once more, she turned it over, examining her brother's familiar scrawl once more. He admired Jane Bennet, Caroline knew, and thought her amiable, beautiful, kind…she scowled. _Well, Charles, there are innumerable more women like that in the world, why can you not fix your heart on one of those instead?_ Standing, she stalked across the room towards the hearth and with an elegant flick of her wrist, deposited the letter into the fire. With a malicious smile, she watched the small paper flare and then crumble as the flames devoured it. There would be no letters for Charles today, nor tomorrow, nor the day after. And perhaps, once the captivating spell of Jane Bennet had been broken, her brother might come around to her way of thinking. She had already posed the question of returning to London for the festive season, but it had been met with little enthusiasm from Charles. Still, she had let it be known that that was their intention. If word reached the Bennets it could not hurt her campaign to destroy what little hope Jane Bennet clung to of her brother's foolish affections.

 _I do despair of staying all winter in Hertfordshire,_ she would remark at dinner one evening soon. _The nights are so long and so dark, and I am aching for some entertainment. A concert, a talk,_ something _of interest._ Then, naturally, she might be able to draw Mr Darcy into the conversation by quizzing him about his time in London. She did not particularly care to know his progress in arranging his wretched wedding, but it would be the perfect opener for her to raise the question of London. _Might the capital not be a far more enjoyable environment within which to spend the winter, brother, dear?_ Yes, the _dear_ was important, it would remind Charles that whilst Jane Bennet might have unknowingly scorned him and ignored his professions of love, she, Caroline, always had his best interests at heart.

Who could tell, perhaps they would be on their way back to civilisation before the week was out?

The door to the parlour swung open, and Caroline glanced up, rearranging her features into something approaching polite concern as she saw Charles slump through the doorway and claim a sofa as his own. He collapsed down upon it, letting out a huge sigh.

"Dear me, Charles, what on earth is the matter?" she asked, taking one last surreptitious glance towards the fire to ensure all evidence of her action was utterly destroyed.

"Nothing," he said, sullenly. "I was waiting for a letter, but it seems it will not come today." He glanced towards the window. "And so I am at a loss."

"Poor boy," Caroline said, settling primly into a seat near him. "And Mr Darcy is gone too, so you are left with only a sister for company. Still," she smiled, encouragingly. "You know I have always been a very kind companion to you. Would you like me to read to you? Or perhaps play a game of chess?"

"A game of chess?" Charles arched an eyebrow. "Since when have you been fond of such a pursuit? If I recall you could hardly play more than three or four moves before you had ensnared yourself and left your queen open to attack from all sides."

"Not chess, then," Caroline replied, her compassion for her brother rapidly disappearing with his insistence on outlining her shortcomings. Her eyes lit upon the piano. "Music! I shall play for you. Stay, do not move a muscle, for I know a lovely piece that will settle your nerves in a moment."

Hurrying to the piano, she opened her music-book and began playing, rather quickly and clumsily in her efforts to busy herself in doing something and to distract her brother's thoughts from Jane Bennet, lest he have a fit of energy and decide to ride over to Longbourn even without a direct invitation. Instead, she heard another weary sigh come from his lips and lifted her fingers from the keys.

"Does my choice displease you?"

"No, no," Charles said, shorty. "It is a very pretty piece. I recall dancing to it with Miss Bennet just a few weeks ago…"

Stifling a sigh of her own, Caroline abruptly turned the page and launched into a piece with an entirely different tempo. If her brother would not abandon his thoughts of Jane Bennet here in Hertfordshire, she must do all she could to get him to London as soon as was possible.


	4. Chapter 4

When Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, Jane was nowhere to be found. Eventually, Lizzy managed to prise her location from Kitty, when she could bid her sister stay in one place long enough to tell her.

"Oh, she flounced off upstairs, accusing Lydia and me of giving her headache." She pouted. "We weren't doing a thing! I do think Jane very bad tempered and unkind to make such an accusation…"

Ignoring her sister's complaints, Lizzy retreated upstairs to Jane's room and found her sister sitting in the window sewing, looking for all the world a picture of diligence. It was only on account of how well she knew her sister that Elizabeth could detect the way her lips turned down at the corners, the frustration with which she stabbed at her fabric with her needle.

"Careful," she cautioned, wincing as Jane narrowly missed the tip of her thumb with the needle's sharp point. "Do not make yourself a pincushion, dear!"

"I am well able to avoid it," Jane said, continuing to sew with agitation. "Recall which of the two of us has a tendency to bleed over embroidery before you accuse me."

Lizzy flinched at the sharp words coming from Jane's usually gentle lips, for even though Jane smiled when she spoke she was not her usual kind self. Elizabeth crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, peering around the frame that she might admire the sampler Jane was working on.

"Beautiful," she murmured. "As ever. Of the two of us, you are still the most talented."

Jane shook her head, wordlessly dismissing the compliment.

The two lapsed into silence while Elizabeth contemplated her next move.

"Kitty said you had a headache, dear, would you like me to fetch you some tea?"

"No, thank you." Jane continued to stitch, but with less energy. At length, she laid the offending embroidery down, and let out a long sigh.

"I know you wish to ask me, so I might as well tell you. I received no letter today, nor did Mr Bingley come in person."

"Perhaps he has been delayed," Elizabeth said, cautiously. "Or -"

"Or perhaps he has changed his mind." Jane shook her head. "I think I was foolish in thinking it possible he truly cared for me. In the length of our acquaintance, Mary is married and you are engaged. Why, then, does he still delay, if he truly cares?"

Jane sounded so desolate that Elizabeth could hold back no longer. She hopped forward and threw her arms around her sister.

"You cannot think so!" she protested. "Why, Mr Bingley adores you, that was plain enough on his face from the first time he laid eyes on you."

"Then why has he not called on us once this past week?" Jane's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "And why does he plan to leave Netherfield when his original intent was to stay through Christmas? There must be some reason, Lizzy, something I have done, or not done." She blinked back tears, and Elizabeth's heart sank.

 _Why did I go to Kent? I might have prevented this if I were here_ _…_

"Don't fret, Jane dear. It cannot be as bleak as all that. Perhaps he has had news of some family business he must see to, or perhaps Miss Bingley -" Elizabeth trailed off, her expression hardening as she recalled to mind one interfering Caroline Bingley. This was her doing, surely? Mr Bingley would never leave without some undue pressure from her quarter, and Caroline had never hidden her disapproval of her brother's affection for Jane.

"He is planning to return to London, you say?" Elizabeth asked, with an affectation of disinterest.

"Yes." Jane drew a shaky breath.

"Well, then there is certainly no need for despair! For your own sister will be housed in London in just a few short days. Recall where Mr Darcy and I intend to marry - and we certainly shan't move from his London townhouse before the year is out. Why do you not come with me dear? We might stay with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner while we organise the last details of the wedding, and if Mr Bingley and his sister are in town it will be impossible to avoid seeing them, for he is a close friend of Mr Darcy's."

"I do not wish to be thought to have followed him…" Jane said unsure at the wisdom of this plan.

"Nonsense! Followed him? You are accompanying me, much as I did with dear Mary." The plan began to cement itself in Elizabeth's mind. "I shall need you by my side as I prepare to marry, Jane, and when we have Anne de Bourgh to visit, you must be there too for I know you would like each other and I do so wish for you to know one another."

Her heart hardened towards Caroline Bingley's machinations and, reluctantly, against Mr Bingley's ability to be led. How could he allow his spiteful sister to drive a wedge between him and Jane? Why not speak his mind? It was too spineless, too cruel.

"And who knows," she said firmly. "Perhaps you will meet someone altogether better than Mr Charles Bingley, for he has had more than ample opportunity to speak of his affection for you. I consider him to be unduly cowardly if he has not chosen to do so yet."

"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane glanced up. "You must not speak so! He is such a kind man, I do not doubt he wished to be sure of my own feelings before speaking -"

"And have you hidden them?"

"I have hardly displayed them for all to see," Jane remonstrated. "Perhaps -"

"Perhaps nothing!" Elizabeth stood. "I will tell Mama that she must prepare to bid farewell to two of her daughters for London." She frowned. "And hopefully I might keep the news secret enough from Kitty and Lydia, for I fear once they hear we are both leaving they will seek to accompany us, and my nerves are frayed enough as it is to even contemplate minding our young sisters in such a place as London. No, Jane, we will go together, you and I. What a surprise that will be for Mr Bingley, to come upon us unawares."

 _And what a surprise for his sister. Surely she knows I will be in London, even if Jane will not. How does she intend so short a distance to be any real separation where true love is concerned?_


	5. Chapter 5

"Is that Mr Darcy?" Mrs Bennet asked a few days later, interrupting a rare peaceful hour at Longbourn by sharing what she viewed from the window.

"You know it is, Mama, you need not act so innocent," Lizzy said, looking up from her book. "He promised to call this afternoon to finalise our plans for the wedding." She cast a wary glance towards Jane. "Is he alone?"

"Quite alone," Mrs Bennet sang. "Did you expect him to be otherwise?"

"No."

Jane's disappointment, whilst invisible to her family, had not gone unnoticed by Elizabeth, who stood, as the door to the parlour opened and admitted Mr Darcy entry.

Mrs Bennet welcomed him with an almost obsequious level of enthusiasm, and Lizzy was amused to see him respond almost in kind, far more warmly than the Mr Darcy of old. His eyes passed quickly over the sisters until they met Lizzy's, at which moment his polite smile became one of genuine affection.

"I trust you are all well, ladies?"

"All well, thank you," Lizzy said, with a warm smile. "How was London? How are Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary? I trust you were able to call on them, however briefly."

"I had no need to. Richard was practically waiting for me at the house." His eyes crinkled in amusement. "I gather he was eager for some occupation - and still more eager for our arrival in town."

"Then everything is arranged?" Mrs Bennet asked, with a quaver in her voice. She turned, accusingly, towards Elizabeth. "You will leave us so soon?"

"I made my position quite clear, Mama, that there was neither need nor wish for a lengthy engagement."

"A lengthy -"

"And as I was able to secure a special licence there really is no need to wait," Mr Darcy put in. Those glorious words "a special licence" were a balm to Mrs Bennet's wounded sensibilities, and her frown lifted.

"Oh, indeed…!" she breathed.

"How does three days hence suit you?" Darcy asked Elizabeth, for a moment forgetting there was any other person present.

"Perfectly," Lizzy said. She had despised this limbo time, where she was neither one thing nor another. Now that her future was clear, she was eager to begin it, and even more so if it would help Mary and Richard to feel more at home in London.

"Just presently it seems that everybody is removing to London!" Lydia said, with an extravagant sigh. "If you leave, and Mr and Miss Bingley go with you, we shall be quite alone!"

"Yes, how dull the winter will be with no friends nearby," Kitty lamented, exchanging a knowing look with her sister.

Lizzy's first glance had been towards Jane, who had flinched when Mr Bingley's name was raised, and soon afterwards stood, on the pretence of ordering some refreshments for their party. Darcy was already fixed on Elizabeth with concern when she returned her glance to his.

"It is news to me that Mr Bingley intends on fleeing the countryside," she said, carefully watching Darcy's reaction. "I thought him quite contented here."

"As did I!" he said, with a curious glance towards the departing Jane. "Yet, it seems we cannot all be so very certain of the way things will play out."

"Which is not always something to be despaired of!" Mrs Bennet said, with a beaming smile towards the couple she would never previously have dreamed of pairing, yet rejoiced over. The problem of Longbourn's going to Mr Collins in the fullness of time had even receded a little in her list of cares, for what was Longbourn, when one might join one's daughter at Pemberley?

"Even a new acquaintance of ours has departed for London," Lydia remarked, with a sly glance towards Darcy. "He is a friend of yours as well, it seems, Mr Darcy!"

There was something in Lydia's tone of voice that struck Elizabeth as a danger, but before she could warn Darcy not to persist in questioning her sister further, for surely that was what she was angling for, that she might deliver whatever verbal blow she had stored up in preparation, he had spoken.

"Oh?" There was a slight smile playing about his features as if he believed Miss Lydia joking with him, and patiently acquiesced to her need for his interest before she delivered the punchline.

"Mr Wickham," Lydia said triumphantly. "He has recently become known to us through his connection with the regiment and what an agreeable gentleman he is!"

"Gentleman?" Darcy's voice was choked, and Elizabeth could well see the light that flashed in his eyes was not enjoyment or entertainment at Lydia's story, but rising anger at its subject.

"Indeed! He once escorted Kitty and I all the way back from Meryton, despite it being quite far out of his way, because he did not wish for us to carry our purchases alone and unaided! Is not that kind?"

"I am sure it is no more than any gentleman's responsibility," Elizabeth interposed, fearing that, if pressed, Darcy would not manage to contain his frustration.

"Oh, do not speak so dismissively, Elizabeth! Mr Wickham is the very soul of a gentleman, having lived such a life of disappointment and yet persisting in rising above his circumstances to make a success of himself." Mrs Bennet explained that, upon the party's arrival at Longbourn, she herself had insisted on his staying with them for a cup of tea, finding him to be a very agreeable, amusing individual.

"He certainly possesses the ability to win people's hearts with considerably little effort," Darcy ground out, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. "But I would not take that as proof of his good character. I am surprised he acknowledged our past…connection, for it was not a happy one, I assure you."

"Oh!" Lydia laughed, oblivious to the seriousness of Darcy's words. "He did not! At least, not at first. It was not until we spoke of Mary's engagement to Colonel Fitzwilliam he confessed that he knew both of you, and that you, Mr Darcy, had been a great friend of his some time ago, but that some disagreement had left you at odds." She shook her head. "He seemed very upset at the loss of your friendship Mr Darcy, but explained he could no longer stay in Hertfordshire, for he had pressing business matters that called him to London."

"And did he not have responsibilities to the regiment that would detain him in Hertfordshire?" Darcy asked, drily. Lizzy watched the interplay of shadows over his face, wondering how it could be that she knew his features so well and so little at the same time.

"Oh, then you do not know!" Lydia exclaimed, obviously delighted to be the one to deliver this news.

"He has quit the regiment!" Kitty broke in, ignoring the scowl her sister sent her for ruining her own announcement. "He has!" She nodded. "Yet I do not doubt it will all work for the best, for now, if he is in London too, you might have the opportunity to repair your relationship and be friends once more. Wouldn't that be a fine thing?"


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N - Hey everyone! Just to let you know I published the full version of this story to purchase - I was hoping to have a little more shared before I did but I'm also setting a first-of-the-month release schedule, so...! On the plus side it means if you prefer to read straight through you can: it's available to buy almost everywhere you buy ebooks. If not, or you want to hedge your bets by reading a little more first, I'll be sharing a chapter or so most days here._

 _Thank you so much for all the reads, reviews and comments on this and my other books. I so appreciate your input and support :)_

 _Enjoy! xx_

* * *

Darcy was glad to be on his horse and not forced to take the journey back to Netherfield on foot. He took the route at a gallop, and it was not until the wind began whipping past his ears that he felt certain he could think clearly at last.

 _So, Wickham has gone to London,_ he thought, grimly. _I ought not to be surprised. Even without Richard_ _'s word in the ear of his commanding officer, I do not doubt our presence in Hertfordshire would have unsettled him._ But why then hasten to London, where he was more than likely to run into them once more? The matter was a puzzle, but then when had Darcy ever been able to successfully discern Wickham's reasons for doing what he did? The man appeared to act without thought, inciting chaos wherever he went, yet Darcy fancied it was the illusion of chaos, only, for Wickham was, and had always been, a shrewd strategist. He had escaped the consequences of his actions more times than Darcy could count, a habit he had thought his friend would grow out of. Darcy tightened his grip on the horse's reins, pulling on them to ease his pace. Instead, Wickham had only worsened with age, it seemed to him. His affairs harmed innocent people, and yet he never seemed to feel the weight of them himself. Darcy thought again of Georgiana. He had begun to soften towards the idea of reuniting with her before Christmas, and had wondered if he might seek to have her with them for the wedding, or soon after, if things continued moving at such a pace. She had been sent word of his intent to marry, but he had carefully left the details vague, certain that admitting to his sister the pertinent information of date and location would merely firm her resolve, and she would arrive without any word preceding her. Now, no matter his own eagerness to see his sister once more, and to have Elizabeth know her and be known by her, he was not about to invite her to precisely the place where she might cross paths with George Wickham once more. She had only narrowly evaded his clutches once before, at considerable cost to her health and Darcy's pocketbook. He had extricated Georgiana from Wickham's circle, but she had been reluctant to see the wisdom of their separation, having believed Darcy to be separating them for his own ends, out of some misplaced resentment towards George Wickham, a lie that the latter had fabricated in an attempt to keep Georgiana from confessing all to her brother before they could safely have got away. Had it not been for Richard by his side, corroborating his story and siding with him against Wickham, he did not doubt that Georgiana would have held the action against him even now, rather than taking the blame still more heavily upon herself. That had not been his intention. There was only one person to blame for the affair, and his name was George Wickham.

 _Well, London is a large place, we need not associate closely,_ he reminded himself, turning at length towards Netherfield, having exhausted both his horse and the break in the weather. Fat raindrops attacked him from on high, and the dark clouds matched his mood, spurring his thoughts on to stormy reason, rather than the peace he had hoped to achieve with activity. By the time he reached Netherfield he was soaked to the skin, but he barely noticed the chill his sodden clothing set into his bones.

"Mr Darcy!" Caroline Bingley must have been lurking in the hallway watching for his return, to be able to greet him so immediately he crossed the threshold. "Oh dear! I was hoping you would not be caught in such a downpour."

"It is nought but a little rain, Miss Bingley," Darcy said, dismissing her concern. "I have survived worse."

"Yes, but -"

"If you will excuse me, I shall retire to my room and change before dinner."

There was easily another few hours before their evening meal, but even if Darcy had not been busily processing the news of George Wickham's hasty relocation to London and fearing for their reacquaintance once he himself took up residence in town once more, he would still be in no humour to make small talk with Charles' sister. She had been punishing him, he had thought, for his engagement to Elizabeth Bennet, with woeful glances and an abundance of silence, which he might have felt deeply, had he ever cared for her conversation to begin with. As it stood, he found her pointed sighs to be a blessed relief from her continual attempts to insert herself into his conversation, his interests, his line of vision. She had, at least, chosen to remain silent on the topic of Elizabeth Bennet, when her first barbed comment had been met with sharp reprimand not only from Darcy but from Charles as well. The silence had intensified, and Darcy had counted himself fortunate.

"Miss Eliza will not be joining us for dinner, then?" Caroline hurried out, desperately, as he took the first two steps towards the sanctuary of his first-floor accommodations.

"I was not aware you had invited her, Miss Bingley," he replied. "Otherwise I am sure she would have been glad to accept, along with her sister, who, I believe, has not been welcomed in this house these past several days."

"Oh!" Caroline squawked. "Did she say as much? No, indeed -!"

"Miss Bingley, excuse me," Darcy said, hurriedly bringing a stop to Caroline's manufactured indignance. She might deceive her brother with her affectation of friendship towards the Bennets, but Darcy was not so easily led. She liked them even less now than she had upon their first meeting and he would stake his fortune on the notion that it was she and not Charles who sought to leave Longbourn and separate forever from Jane Bennet. Even Darcy had not been immune to the expression of pain in the eldest Miss Bennet's eyes at the mention of Charles Bingley, and he could only imagine that she was hurt and confused by his sudden silence, and by the news that he and his sister intended on leaving Hertfordshire just as swiftly as they had arrived. He would speak to Charles later, if he could secure a moment of his time without his sister hanging on their every word. First, though, he must change his clothing, for, now that he was no longer in motion, his garments hung heavy and sodden, and he was eager to be rid of them. "As you so eloquently pointed out, I was not fortunate enough to escape the onslaught of the weather, and I must change my clothes before I drip half of it onto your brother's carpet. Good afternoon."

Before Caroline could say another word, he had made good his escape, but it was not quite quick enough to escape the frustrated hiss of air she exhaled at his departing back.


	7. Chapter 7

The dining table at Netherfield was silent. _Well, not entirely silent_. Caroline Bingley had tried countless times to instigate conversation, turning first to her brother, then to Mr Darcy, but both gentlemen had rebuffed her in turn. Oh, not out loud. Neither of them had said "Be quiet, Caroline", but it was evident that this was the prevailing mood of the table. _To be addressed directly, either one of them would have had to lift his gaze long enough to acknowledge me at all,_ she thought, with a self-pitying sigh.

"Did you ride over to Longbourn this afternoon?" Charles asked, at length.

This caught Caroline's ear, not only because it was the first comment her brother had made without prompting that evening, but also because the topic of his comment was Longbourn - _or Jane Bennet_ , Caroline acknowledged irritably - and it was directed to Mr Darcy. Caroline knew, even if her brother feigned ignorance, that Longbourn had indeed been Mr Darcy's destination that afternoon, but she was curious to see if she might read from his response his feelings on the matter.

"I did," Darcy replied, lifting his attention from his plate long enough to regard Charles, whose expression was rapt on his response. "I ought to have invited you to visit with me, had I the notion that you wished to."

"Oh! Well -" Charles glanced over at Caroline, and she shook her head, ever so slightly. His cheeks flamed, and he dropped his gaze back to his barely touched meal. "It is perhaps all for the best that I do not. Call, that is." He cleared his throat. "One does not wish to appear too eager…"

"Too eager?" Darcy snorted. "And since when have appearances been of any concern to you, Charles?"

"Since Jane Bennet made her feelings for my brother perfectly plain." Caroline spoke sharply, wishing to quickly bring the topic to its conclusion before Mr Darcy's interference sparked her brother's feelings back into full fervour just as she had begun to quash them. She dropped her voice. "Or rather, her _lack of feelings._ _"_ This had been intended only for Mr Darcy's ears, but Charles evidently heard her words, for his head and shoulders sank still lower towards the table. Caroline felt a flicker of guilt, then. Was she cruel, to pierce his hopes like this? And yet, no. It was all for his own good. Charles deserved someone far better than Jane Bennet, and if he was prone to allow a little summer flirtation go too far, then she must be the one to bring it screaming to a halt before things got too far out of hand. Mr Darcy had evidently chosen to seal his own fate by allying himself with Eliza Bennet, but Caroline was not about to permit her brother to make a similar mistake.

"Oh, has she?" Mr Darcy asked, in a tone of voice that was not entirely pleasant. The look he fixed upon Caroline was equally unpleasant, and she began to wonder how she might ever have thought him handsome, when his eyes flashed so with anger, and he drew his lips together in a line that suggested he saw through her ruse and despised her, when she was, she assured herself, only acting as any sister ought.

"Let us not speak of it at the table," she said, lifting her chin in defiance and insisting, as they had deigned at last to speak, that she might at least steer the conversation towards a safer topic, and one in which she had rather more interest. "I trust the plans for your wedding proceed with all speed, Mr Darcy? Tell me, when do you and Miss Eliza intend on making your way back to London?"

"Soon," Mr Darcy said, after so long a pause that Caroline felt altogether uncomfortable. "She will stay with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner."

"In Cheapside?" Caroline's response was almost a squawk, so surprised was she that Darcy did not only apparently approve of the Bennet's having such connections in London, but of Elizabeth spending time there in advance of their union.

"I believe that is where they live," he said, coolly. "But perhaps you will be able to confirm that for yourself, Miss Bingley, for I am informed that you and Charles have seen fit to return to town ahead of your schedule as well."

"Yes," Charles said, lifting his gaze once more, and affecting a somewhat brave smile. "There is some good news at last, Darcy. With Caroline and I in London once more, we might be able to attend your wedding and call on you thereafter. I trust you and Miss Elizabeth plan on staying in town for Christmas?"

"That is our intention," Darcy said. "And you would be most welcome, at any time, Charles. Richard and Mary are there too, so I do not doubt we shall have many evenings together -" his voice became audibly less inviting as he turned to Caroline. "You are of course invited to accompany your brother, Miss Bingley, should you find yourself without a better choice of occupation."

Caroline smarted from the coldness of his address, but she plastered a smile onto her features, unwilling to admit how his dismissal hurt her.

"How kind you are, Mr Darcy. It will indeed be so charming to spend time with you and Miss Eliza in your new home. However will she manage to be mistress of it, I wonder?"

"I have always found her to be most able at managing, Miss Bingley, though I will ensure to tell her of your concerns." He paused to lift his wineglass to his lips, never looking away from her as he did so. His gaze was so stern that Caroline found herself forced to break away first, returning her attention momentarily to her plate. How was it that Mr Darcy, whose good opinion she once felt certain she had attained, was so changed in his feelings towards her? Now, she felt as if he was warning her that whatever tricks she might attempt in protecting Charles from an entanglement with Jane Bennet, he would seek to undermine. How could he be so easily deceived, so utterly changed? At first, it had been he, rather than she, who warned of a potential connection between Charles and Jane. Now he was determined to route her plans and reunite them.

The conversation turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, while Charles made polite enquiries as to how Mr Darcy's cousin fared in his marriage and in London, and Caroline allowed the short snippets of conversation to fade around her. She had little interest in Colonel Fitzwilliam, feeling him to be of limited use to her in terms of connections or by virtue of his own career. _He is only a second son, after all,_ she had reasoned, and his brother was already old and married and scarcely worthy of her notice. Had Colonel Fitzwilliam been an ally in her securing Mr Darcy's affections, well, that might have warranted him her notice, but he seemed altogether more interested in bringing both he and his cousin forever into circles with the wretched Bennet family, choosing out of all of them the plainest, most insignificant of the five for his own wife. Caroline despaired of any gentleman's ability to think rationally. She had once thought it possible of Mr Darcy alone, but even he had proved her incorrect, and she was forced to acknowledge his far inferior intellect.

 _What a pity,_ she thought, sliding the remains of her meal around on her plate. _How different I envisaged this Christmas being._ She had dreams of an engagement of her own, perhaps a marriage, perhaps Pemberley, even! But all that was lost to her, on account of Eliza Bennet's scheming. Still, she was not entirely bereft. At least she would not be forced to trail after Charles' new wife and pretend to be happy about surrendering her position as mistress of Netherfield - or wherever her brother ended up next, for she felt sure that once they quit Netherfield for London she might easily be able to advise Charles against returning. No, provided Charles remained single, her position was safe. And if they were in London, there was every possibility she might meet and marry someone herself, in the process of finding someone more suitable for her brother to fall in love with. _It ought to be managed easily,_ Caroline thought, _for someone as clever as I am._

Suitably cheered, she lifted her glass to her lips and drained its contents, doubts only beginning to encroach when she felt herself once more under the scrutiny of Mr Darcy's dark eyes. This time she would not be so easily cowed and met his gaze with defiance. This time, she noticed, it was he who looked away first.


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure you have packed everything, girls?" Mrs Bennet followed her two eldest daughters out towards their carriage, clutching a handkerchief to her nose with such energy that her words were muffled by its soft cotton.

"Yes, Mama," Lizzy said, patiently. "We were sure last evening, when we sealed the trunks, and sure again this morning when you asked us at breakfast, and we remain utterly, completely sure now that nothing we require has managed to worm its way out of our sealed cases to leave us mourning its loss once we reach London."

"In any case," Lydia piped up, trailing after the party with Kitty in tow. "They are to be in London, Mama. Surely they can replace anything they find need of." She lifted her nose into the air. "In fact, I do not see why you must take anything with you at all, Lizzy. Surely Mr Darcy is wealthy enough to afford for you to purchase an entirely new trousseau."

"Wealthy enough," Lizzy acknowledged. "And sensible enough not to suggest it. My belongings will suit me just fine, Miss Avarice." She tweaked Lydia's hair playfully, before pulling her younger sisters into an embrace. "Please do not torment Father too much!" she muttered into their hair.

"Torment?" Kitty asked, looking hurt.

"You know he does not manage your excitement well," Jane said, patting Mr Bennet warmly on the arm.

"And excitement I shall have!" he said, looking wearily from his two eldest daughters to his two youngest. "When we follow you to London tomorrow."

"I still do not see why we cannot all go together," Mrs Bennet complained. "It will be of no consequence to my brother, I am sure…"

"My dear Mrs Bennet, we agreed this was much the best way to manage the journey. After all, you could not possibly wish to curtail your own luggage for the sake of your daughters!" His eyes twinkled. "No, this way we might all travel in comfort." A whispered exchange between Lydia and Kitty escalated into a frenzy of shrieks, and he sighed. " _Relative_ comfort, at any rate. Jane, dear, be good, and hopefully, some time in the busyness of London will restore a little colour to your cheeks. Now, my Lizzy, you must say goodbye properly, for I am losing you altogether!"

Lizzy felt herself pressed into a warm embrace, and breathed in the familiar scent of her father's jacket.

"Not losing me, Father!" she admonished. "For I shall still write regularly and ask for you to do the same. However else am I to receive a sensible, ordered account of life at Longbourn?"

Mrs Bennet reached out her handkerchief to swat at her daughter for this cheeky sentiment, but did not counter it.

A few embraces, a few more tears, and Jane and Lizzy were bundled into their carriage and finally on their way to London.

"There!" Elizabeth said, leaning back into the plush interior of the carriage. "We are on our way at last. I felt certain we would never leave!"

"I am not sorry to bid Longbourn goodbye for a few weeks," Jane confessed, with a weary sigh. "These have been long days, losing first Mary and now you." Her pale blue eyes filled with tears, until Lizzy reached forward and poked her in the side.

"Do not get emotional with me now, dear!" she cautioned. "You must think of this as a jolly adventure we are going on, for I certainly intend to. London! What fun we shall have."

"And you married, and keeping house - a townhouse - for Mr Darcy no less!" Jane's tears melted away and an amused smile crept onto her face. "Yes, I think that shall be fun indeed to observe. Have you enlightened him to your complete inability to keep time when there is a particularly interesting chapter of a book to hand?"

Elizabeth ignored this teasing, pleased only to see Jane a little more like herself with every mile that passed between them and a certain house three miles further still from Longbourn. She had not circled back to the topic of Mr Bingley, although she was biding her time until she could. If only she might think of a way to bring his name into conversation without upsetting Jane further, and determine what had happened between the pair to so disastrously separate them.

She turned towards the window, content to watch the changing scenery as they headed into Hertfordshire and thence towards London and ponder a little more on the problem of Mr Bingley. _If he intended to avoid Jane in removing to London then he is sadly mistaken!_ she thought, already imagining an evening at Darcy's townhouse where she might host a dinner and invite both Mr Bingley and her sister. _How pretty my sister looks in the firelight, Mr Bingley, do not you agree?_ She would lead the conversation, recall their shared meetings, perhaps even orchestrate that they dance once more - for it was in dancing that Jane first secured Mr Bingley's heart. Surely dancing would secure it once more!

"I hope you will stay with me after the wedding," Lizzy said, turning towards Jane once more.

"If you wish it," Jane said, placidly. "And if Mr Darcy is agreeable to the suggestion."

"Of course he will be!" Lizzy was indignant at the suggestion that Darcy would not welcome her sisters as if they were his own. In fact, she wished he would invite his sister to join them too, for to have heard of Georgiana only by name piqued her curiosity on a near-daily basis. He suggested that she was better suited to remain where she was, and Lizzy would not press her to join them in London before she was ready. _We shall all be together at Pemberley, in the new year_ was all he would be drawn upon, and even that was muttered with some frustration at their last meeting. Lizzy's smile faded a fraction. It had been Lydia's mention of Mr Wickham that had soured Darcy's mood. Lizzy recalled the man herself, remembered meeting him as they passed on the street. He had called them friends, but it had been apparent that any affection between them was one-sided, not shared by either Mr Darcy or, indeed, by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Knowing what she did of the two cousins, Lizzy was rather minded to take their side on the matter, particularly if Wickham's only defender was Lydia, who thought any man worthy of esteem if he had five pounds to his name and a rakish grin. Lizzy drew a breath. She was not unhappy to hear the man was to be in London, if it kept him out of Hertfordshire. There were plenty enough young men in the regiment for Lydia to think herself in love with, she did not need one already proven to be a trouble-maker. In any case, London was large and busy and Lizzy did not think it at all likely their paths would cross with this Mr Wickham. Particularly not if Darcy was predisposed to avoid him.

"What are you thinking about?" Jane asked, summoning Lizzy out of her reverie. "You look serious all of a sudden. I hope you are not unhappy that the day is here, and so quickly?"

"Indeed not," Lizzy said, replacing her frown with a smile. "I am only sorry that you shall not be standing beside me, marrying your Mr Bingley."

Jane's eyes widened momentarily at the mention of his name, but Lizzy was committed. Now that the subject was broached, she might as well say her piece.

"I wish you would not consider him lost to you, Jane. Neither of you has even spoken. Surely there is nothing more than a misunderstanding that one conversation might put right."

"Ordinarily I would agree with you, Lizzy," Jane said. "But in this case, I must confess my disbelief. If things could be mended so easily, if it really would take but one conversation to repair whatever has happened to part us, then why is Mr Bingley so determined to avoid having it?"

 _Why indeed?_ Lizzy thought, all of her affection for Mr Bingley faltering. She had thought him kind, and assumed his interest in her sister to be entirely genuine. She had even encouraged Jane to pursue it, pressing her sister into confessing "love" where Jane would herself only have mentioned "like", suggesting Charles Bingley's worth went far beyond "agreeable", and claiming him to be just the kind of friendly, charming young man she would have created for her sister herself, had she been given the power to do so. That he could break her heart so cruelly, and without any explanation? Lizzy balled her hands into fists. It was unconscionable. Unforgivable. Her sly plan to reunite the pair crumbled to dust. No, Charles Bingley did not deserve her sister's affections, nor would she play any part in bringing them together once more. Instead, she would find Jane someone new, someone entirely better than Charles Bingley could ever be.


	9. Chapter 9

"Mary!"

"Lizzy! Jane!"

Mary threw herself into her sisters' arms as if they had been separated for months, rather than days, and Elizabeth was pleased to see the distracted, anxious look finally receding from Jane's face as she chattered happily with Mary, learning all she could about how her sister was adjusting to married life, and whether they were well settled with Colonel Fitzwilliam's brother and sister-in-law.

The night before Darcy and Elizabeth's wedding, in a fit of hospitality, Mr Philip Fitzwilliam had thrown open the doors to his home, inviting not only Darcy, his own cousin, but the entire Bennet clan who found themselves in London for the nuptials. He even extended his invitation to Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and so the party gathered around the dining table was a loud, boisterous one. Richard could neither understand nor explain his brother's sudden desire to be hospitable, but he was evidently pleased to see so many friendly faces warming the usually cold threshold of the Fitzwilliams' house.

"I credit this as being Mary's doing," he confided to Elizabeth, watching with delight the way Mary sought to introduce Jane to her new sister-in-law and pleased to see the usually superior Louisa smiling and chatting as if the three were old friends rather than brand new acquaintances. "My brother would certainly not have been so enthusiastic, were I here alone."

"Not even for the cousin you share?" Elizabeth asked, glancing over to where Mr Darcy and Mr Fitzwilliam spoke, and noting the stilted nature of their conversation reflected in their stiff postures. The two were not at all alike to look at, indeed, Elizabeth could trace more likeness between Darcy and the gentleman beside her than she could between the Fitzwilliam brothers.

"Alas, my brother has never been entirely fond of family connections. I expect it is merely due to his age: for he is above a decade older than me, and we were rarely together when I was growing up."

"Still, it is very generous of him to invite us all to dine here before the wedding," Elizabeth acknowledged.

"Kind, yes," Richard said, shortly. He lowered his voice, and the merest hint of a wry smile coloured his features. "I am sure he has his reasons for doing so. Whether or not we are ever party to them is a different matter altogether." He lifted his drink to his lips. "But, Miss Elizabeth, you must think me incredibly rude for dominating the conversation with my own worries. Tell me all about the plans for the wedding."

Elizabeth laughed, herself.

"And what can I tell you that you do not already know? For Mr Darcy told me of your assistance to him in making all the arrangements."

"Indeed, it was a pleasure to be a help to the two people who so ably assisted in my own marriage," he said, saluting Darcy across the room with his cup. Darcy caught the motion, and excused himself from his cousins' clutches, winding past the gaggle of Bennets and Gardiners to the quiet corner that housed Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"I see you have found the only sensible arena for conversation in the place," he remarked.

"I thank you for crediting me with sense!" Richard said.

"Ah, a notion of which I must disabuse you of immediately, cousin, for I directed my comment to you: in conversing with my dear Elizabeth, you have found quite the most sensible lady in the room to share a quiet word with."

Everybody laughed at this disingenuous compliment, and Elizabeth felt heat rush to her cheeks in hearing herself thus mentioned. _My dear Elizabeth_. It was not the first time Darcy had referred to her thus, but there was something in his tone of voice, some ease or familiarity that had been lacking in his previous forms of address. He might still insist, when they were alone together, that their marriage was one of friends only, but she began to detect the merest hint, here and there, of the true nature of his feelings towards her, and she could only admit she liked it.

"Richard!" Mary's voice broke through the quiet, summoning him to clarify some point of interest between her sister and Louisa, and with an apologetic nod towards his companions, he excused himself.

"And so the day is almost here!" Darcy said, sliding into the place Richard had vacated. "Although I confess I shall not relax until it is over."

"Nor I!" Elizabeth agreed. Despite nursing her own secret suspicions that Darcy's true feelings for her might echo her own, she was still plagued by doubts that would not permit her to speak of it aloud. They had agreed to marry for the most formal and pragmatic of reasons, she did not wish to upset the applecart by declaring feelings she was as yet not entirely certain he returned. The arrangement, indeed, their entire engagement, felt precarious and she would not relax until the matter was settled before God on the morrow. That it would be a small wedding, conducted in the sight of only those present here this evening, helped settle her anxieties a little.

"What a pity your sister could not join us," she mused, watching the interaction of Mary and Jane with Louisa and wondering, idly, how Georgiana would fare in such a situation.

"Alas, it could not be changed," Darcy said, gruffly. "But you will see her before long, for she will join us at Pemberley in the new year."

"I look forward to it," Elizabeth said, although she was not entirely truthful. She was a little afraid of meeting Georgiana Darcy for the first time, fearful that she would see through the charade entirely, and despise Elizabeth for marrying her brother under false pretences. _Or will her presence force us to be truthful at last?_ she wondered.

Darcy appeared preoccupied: he had not noticed the note of anxiety that rang in Elizabeth's words, and for that she was grateful.

"Lizzy!" Mrs Bennet's voice rose above the volume of conversation and tugged at Elizabeth's attention, until both she and Mr Darcy looked over.

"Lizzy!" Mrs Bennet gestured towards her daughter with a wave. "Come, dear, and tell your aunt a little more of your plans for the future. Mr Darcy, you must join us too, for we are eager to hear more of Pemberley."

Exchanging a look of humorous forbearance, Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm, and the two crossed the room in perfect synchronicity to join her family.

 _If my family have not failed to welcome Mr Darcy, and to rejoice in our connection how can I persist in fearing my fate in the hands of his sister? Surely she will be every bit as warm and welcoming to me._ The words were true, yet they did not entirely erase the slight sense of foreboding she felt, and she was forced to suppress it, focusing instead on the immediate present, listening with interest to her soon-to-be husband describing the estate he loved, that would soon be her own to enjoy, whatever the opinion of his sister.


	10. Chapter 10

Their evening's reunion had rendered everyone so agreeably disposed to one another that on the following morning, Darcy's guests arrived so bright and early to the house for the wedding that even he could not fault Mr Fitzwilliam's wisdom. He was relieved not to have had the task of hosting a dinner the evening before the wedding, so that he could come to the day clear-headed and alert, for it was not without some trepidation he heard Mrs Bennet's loud exclamations over the size of the property, its elegant interior, its location. " _Why, it might even be more appropriate than Pemberley, for how pleasant it has been to all be here together!"_ Darcy exchanged a glance with his cousin, as both men waited patiently for the wedding party to arrive.

"You seem remarkably calm, cousin," Richard said, taking his place beside Darcy in a reflection of his own wedding, which had so recently taken place.

"Compared to you, you mean?" Darcy quipped. "And what reason do I have not to be calm?"

"You do not expect Aunt Catherine to come thundering in, demanding the wedding be stopped with all urgency?"

"Not unless you received a different communication than I did?" Darcy tapped his breast-pocket, which held two letters which had arrived the previous day. One was from Georgiana, scolding him for not having the patience to wait until reaching Pemberley to marry, and in the same breath rejoicing at his good fortune and declaring her delight at the news and her eagerness to meet her new sister. The second was penned in Anne's careful hand, politely refusing the invitation he had extended to both she and Lady Catherine to attend the wedding. She explained that her mother was, unfortunately, suffering from the effects of the season and had taken to her bed, but that she, Anne, would be most delighted to visit the new Mr and Mrs Darcy at their first available opportunity, if he might only write by return to advise her of the date. He had already dashed off a brief note inviting her to come as soon as she wished, for Elizabeth's family would return to Hertfordshire the very next day, taking their relatives the Gardiners with them for an extended winter holiday, and he feared for Elizabeth's spirits, being so suddenly alone. Mary and Richard would stay, he knew, and he felt sure that Jane, too, might be pressed into accompanying her sister, but he was certain that Anne's company would be a most welcome addition to the party.

"I feel sure we are safe, Richard, for she could not separate us at Rosings, and here I have the advantage." He grinned. "It is my house, after all."

"And what a fine house it is too!" Richard remarked, affecting a tone of voice not unlike Mrs Bennet's, which could still be heard, echoing down the corridor.

"You have been married so short a time and already you seek to undermine your mother-in-law?" Darcy shook his head. "Such shocking behaviour, and from a colonel in the regiment."

" _Former_ colonel," Richard reminded him. "Which position is not unlike another of our acquaintances, albeit a rather less happy one."

Darcy scowled. He had mentioned Wickham's change in status to Richard the previous evening, if only to warn the man to be on the lookout for their friend's attempt at ingratiating himself into their circle. Darcy doubted even Wickham would be fool enough to seek acknowledgement from either cousin, but he so despaired at the reason for Wickham's returning to London at all that he was determined not to consider anything beyond possibility for such a man.

The doors flew open and the noisy crowd bustled in, followed by a short pause during which time Darcy felt his bravado falter just a little, and was forced to acknowledge, if only within the confines of his own mind, that he was indeed a little nervous. At last, he beheld Elizabeth entering, and his eyes would not move from her for the duration of the short ceremony. She looked beautiful, and yet so perfectly herself that he realised again that their decision to wed in London was quite the best. It was a simple wedding, not the grand occasion he had half imagined being foisted upon him when he did decide to marry, and he could nought but own he was glad of its simplicity. But a few moments more and the vows were said, and the new Mr and Mrs Darcy turned to be welcomed by their grouped family and friends.

Sitting down to the wedding breakfast, Darcy, at last, was able to tear his eyes away from his new bride, certain by the light pressure of her hand in his that she remained by his side. He ceded the right to make a speech to Richard, and to Mr Bennet, who, after rather more brandy than was entirely polite at so early an hour, found himself overcome with the desire to share his thoughts on this "most surprising match", and was met with several peals of laughter and much rejoicing from everyone present. When Richard stood to speak, he began by lifting a pile of notes from where they had been deposited on a tray by a servant.

"Many of your acquaintances despaired over the speed with which you have married," he began, clearing his throat. "And so I wager you will have an interminably long tour of the country in order to visit them all in the new year."

Everybody laughed, for Darcy's intention to retire to Pemberley and remain there, in comfortable solitude, was fast becoming a running joke within the crowd. Even he found Richard's teasing amusing, and the scowl that usually darkened his features was nowhere to be seen.

"And here is something mysterious!" Richard said, lifting another note to his eyes. "This arrived without a postmark and was, I believe, slipped into the very hand of your housekeeper in person this morning." His eyes scanned the gathered group, as if seeking out the mischief-maker from among them. "I do not doubt them especially offended not to have warranted an invitation, if they were in London themselves and might otherwise have been amongst us. Anyway, let us hear what words of joy they have for the bride and groom." He cleared his throat. "To the inimitable Mr Darcy and his new bride, I must offer you my most hearty congratulations on your new state and only pray that wedded bliss finds you as contented a man as you deserve, certainly I have been denied the experience myself and thus can offer no suggestions as to the maintenance of a happy home." He paused, frowning at the strange sentiment. "And yet, as you excel in all that you do I can only imagine you will find marriage all you deserve, William. Your friend, G." Richard turned the letter over, in case there was a further clue as to the note's author, and finding nothing, he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, the fellow must remain nameless, unless you are aware of a mythical _G_ who would seek to advise you when he acknowledges his own lack of experience!" He laughed, though the sound was somewhat forced, and dropped the note to the table-top, hurriedly reaching for the next in the pile. Darcy's eyes strayed to the mystery letter, and his heart sank. He had recognised the tone, read the identity of its author in the few, mysterious words. The handwriting merely confirmed his suspicions. _So, George Wickham does not seek entirely to avoid me,_ he thought, his lips turning down in a grimace. _He seeks to bait me, even now._

The slight pressure on his hand increased, and he turned to meet Elizabeth's unspoken question with a vague smile. Her dark eyes were dimmed in concern, and he sought to silently reassure her, though this time his smile, which had until that moment felt more natural to him than any such expression had in the past, took effort, and he felt sure that she noticed. Her fingers withdrew the merest fraction from his, and he turned his attention back to Richard, feeling a wave of anger that even in his absence, Wickham still possessed the power to undermine his happiness.


	11. Chapter 11

"I still think it a pity we could not attend the wedding yesterday, Caro," Charles Bingley remarked, staring dolefully out of the window into the bustling London street.

"It was better avoided," Caroline said with a sniff. "Did Mr Darcy not intimate he wished for it to be attended by family only? Even poor Georgiana did not plan to attend."

"Yes." Charles frowned. "How peculiar that Darcy would not want his own sister present."

"Perhaps she was the one who refused," Caroline said, maliciously. "After all, Lady Catherine de Bourgh has already come out as entirely disapproving of so unequal a match: perhaps Georgiana shares their aunt's view."

Something about her tone made Charles look up.

"That is not kind, Caroline."

"It is neither kind nor unkind, I merely speak the truth," she said, with a philosophical shrug. "I, myself, cannot see the wisdom in the union. I am pleased that at least certain members of Mr Darcy's family are in agreement. I am unsurprised that Mr and Mrs Bennet and their passel of daughters are in full support. They must know that it is quite a step up for Eliza to have secured such a gentleman as Mr Darcy."

She stopped speaking, suddenly fearing that her sharp tone betrayed not her detached, sensible view of the marriage, but permitted her brother to see her true feelings, that she regretted the wedding for altogether more personal reasons. The feeling had settled heavily on her when she woke the previous morning. _This is Mr Darcy_ _'s wedding day. It might have been mine, if that wretched Eliza Bennet had not bewitched him and spoiled all my hopes._ No, she would not - could not - go to their wedding and smile and wish them a hearty congratulations when in truth she wished to strike Elizabeth and hoped Darcy would come to rue the day he had allowed himself to be so easily led away from the altogether happier, more sensible match that he might have had with her.

Charles had returned his gaze to the street, and Caroline began to perceive the notion that he was not merely witnessing the passing foot traffic but looking for someone. She drew a long breath. Their not attending the wedding had had a second, rather more essential reason behind it: she wished to prevent Charles from crossing paths with Jane Bennet once more. It had completely escaped her notice, when she suggested their removal to London, that Jane Bennet would follow them: or, rather, follow her sister. How could she have been so careless as to forget that would be the case? Still, it cemented her position that the wedding must be avoided. Jane Bennet would return home with her family, and then they might call on the newly married Mr and Mrs Darcy once there was safely a county's distance between her brother and Elizabeth's sister.

"Is there something of particular interest in the street, Charles?" Caroline asked, sweetly.

"Eh?" Her brother glanced up again, blushing slightly at having been caught in such careful concentration. "No, nothing really. You know me, I just like to watch the world go by." He smiled, but the expression was not at all genuine. Not for the first time, Caroline felt a flash of guilt at what she was doing. _It is for his own good,_ she reminded herself. Her brother deserved better from his marriage than Jane Bennet, even if he could not see it at this point. She knew better, and she would do what was required to keep him from making such a foolish mistake as his friend.

"Perhaps we might call on the -" he began.

"The Kents?" Caroline interposed, knowing full well the friends Charles had been poised to name had certainly not been the couple she had suggested.

Charles blinked, frowning slightly.

"The - Kents?" he asked, faintly. "Oh, yes. I suppose we might, if you wish it…"

Caroline let out a relieved exhalation. Sir Stephen and Lady Kent had two daughters as well as their son, Roderick, who was almost as wide as he was tall and whose ruddy red cheeks were framed by fierce whiskers. He was not a patch on Mr Darcy in terms of attractiveness, Caroline was forced to concede, but he was, if it could be believed, wealthier, and would stand to inherit a title to boot, upon the demise of his poor father. His sisters, too, were altogether more agreeable prospects for Charles than Jane Bennet, being quiet and polite and eminently ladylike. They were not as beautiful as she was, naturally, and both lacked the ability to make anything of their plain features. Even with the wealth they had at their disposal, they were never dressed fashionably, but perhaps she, Caroline, might be able to assist them in that. If she could prove herself valuable to the family that would no doubt fix her in good standing with their brother, and then…!

"Is something the matter?"

Caroline froze, lifting a guilty gaze to her brother.

"You look as if you might be in pain, Caroline," Bingley said, with an amused lilt, at last, lifting his voice from the unhappy sigh it had been since they arrived in London. "You are grimacing in a manner you surely learned from Darcy, during our time together at Netherfield. Come, tell me your troubles, for you surely know mine and have been a most kind, patient sister in helping to solve them."

"You are mistaken," Caroline said, hurriedly smoothing her features into a smile. "I am quite well. I was merely reflecting on your idea to call on the Kents. I think it a fine plan, and one we must execute right away. Shall we not call on them this very afternoon? We might pass through Regent's Park on our journey, as well, and take some air."

Her voice softened, then, for she cared for her brother very much, and did not like to see him upset, even when she was the cause and might, with but a few words and a single visit, resolve his conflicted feelings. _Unfortunately, that would also end in a most undesirable engagement, and I am certainly not about to permit that in order to lift Charles_ _' spirits. No, we must find another way._ The admiring smiles of the Miss Kents ought to go some way to soothing her brother, for Charles was an optimistic, happy fellow and would not be brought low for very long, Caroline was sure of that.


	12. Chapter 12

Elizabeth woke early the morning after the wedding and hurried to dress. Her room was elegant, and she was touched to see the small ways Darcy had attempted to make it welcoming to her. There were dried flowers scenting the air, and a selection of books on one end-table. She lifted one and cracked the spine, surprised to see that it was new. She replaced it on top of its brothers with a warm smile. How thoughtful he was, and how well he knew her!

Her heart sank a little, then, when she recalled the previous evening. Their guests had stayed late, celebrating and happy, but at last, they had gone and Darcy and Elizabeth were left alone. She had been unsure what their arrangements might be that evening, considering that they were both still holding to the pretence of their marriage being only a formal arrangement. She had allowed herself to be swept up in the romance of it, fancying she saw genuine affection in Darcy's features when their eyes met and they exchanged their vows. She had continued in the dream until Colonel Fitzwilliam's speech at their wedding breakfast, when he began reading notes that had been sent by friends and family unable to attend the ceremony but still wishing to pass on their congratulations. They had been taken with pleasure and good humour, as they were intended, until one was read that cause Darcy's face to fall into a frown. Elizabeth had tried to ask him about it, both at the time and later in the evening, and on both occasions received nought but a short dismissal and an attempt to change the subject. It had been then that he had escorted her to her room. There was a door, he had muttered, that connected between this and the room behind it, which was his, but - and this was a point he was very clear on - the door was locked and the key would remain in her possession. _Things may differ,_ he had said, _at Pemberley, but this seems a suitable arrangement for the time being._ And with a stern nod, he had departed, leaving her alone.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and forced herself to smile.

 _Well, Elizabeth, this was the agreement you made. And in any case, being given a room of your own, with new books and the promise of Pemberley in the future is far and away more enticing than anything that might have been yours, had you been forced to wed Mr Collins._ Suitably cheered by this thought, she beckoned her lady's maid in, and hurried to dress. She took her time walking down to breakfast, admiring the art that Darcy had chosen for display and running her fingertips over the delicately carved wooden furniture that lined the walls. Despite her slow progress, it was still early when she reached the dining room, so she was started to see Darcy already there, with a small pile of letters to his right.

"Good morning," she said, affecting a cheerfulness she did not entirely feel. It was strange how shy she felt, now faced with the man who had become her husband.

Darcy pushed his chair back, standing to greet her.

"Good morning, Miss - Mrs - Elizabeth." He smiled, and Elizabeth's shyness vanished. He was still the same Darcy, the same man she had come to respect and appreciate and - but never mind that. He was looking at her expectantly, and she felt the sudden sense that he had asked her a question that demanded an answer, and she had missed it.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked, sliding into her seat, and watching him echo her motion.

"I enquired as to whether you slept well last night? I trust the room was - that is, that you were comfortable?"

"Very," Elizabeth said, with a smile. "It is a perfect room: the very one I might have chosen for myself, had I been asked."

This answer evidently pleased Darcy, for his returning smile stayed in place, settling around the edges of his lips.

"And I must thank you for the books," Elizabeth continued, reaching for a cup of tea. "You are very kind."

"Kind, nothing!" Darcy said, with a short laugh. "I think it well within a husband's rights to be able to purchase a novel or two for his wife."

Elizabeth delighted to hear the words trip so naturally from his lips.

"What plans do you have for the day?" she asked, nodding towards his pile of letters. "You must not allow me to keep you from your tasks."

"Tasks?" With one motion, Darcy swept the pile of letters aside. "I was merely marking time until you joined me. I am entirely at your service today. What would you most like to do? We might take a walk, for I well recall your fondness for activity. You must be aching for some greenery." He cast a rueful glance towards the window. "Perhaps we might visit one of the parks? St James', or Regent's."

Elizabeth nodded.

"I should like that very much!"

"We might call on your family, if you wish it, too?" There was a light in Darcy's eyes and for a moment, Lizzy could not tell if his suggestion was a serious one or an attempt at humour. "Despite what you may imagine of me, I do know the way to Cheapside."

Elizabeth laughed, certain, now, that he had been making a joke.

"You mean you did not have your fill of Bennet attention yesterday?" she teased, filling her plate. She was suddenly ravenous, and her spirits, which had flirted with being downcast that morning at last felt suitably lifted. She recalled to mind Darcy's assertion, in his proposal, that even if they did not possess the sweeping affection popularised by romances they were friends, and could well enjoy one another's company.

"I weathered it as well as any man might, on the day he is married," he conceded. "But I am also aware that this is all so sudden a change for you that you might be eager to see familiar faces once more." He placed his knife and fork together, neatly, on his plate and laced his fingers together beneath his chin. "Did not you wish for Jane to stay in London? She is more than welcome to stay here, rather than with your aunt and uncle, if it would please you. We can send a carriage for her belongings today, if you wish?"

"You are very kind," Lizzy began. "But just yesterday, Jane suggested that she would, in fact, prefer to return to Hertfordshire with our family." Her heart sank. "I had so wished for her to stay here, but…"

 _News of Mr Bingley_ _'s arrival in London precipitated Jane's leaving, I am sure of it!_ She attacked her food with her knife, slicing with rather more ferocity than was necessary. Despite her plan to reunite the pair on neutral ground, Jane had insisted she would not care to see him again, and in fact the very thought of staying near where she knew him to be caused her so much anxiety that she would very much prefer to be at home again, if it would not disappoint her sister greatly.

"In that case," Darcy said, after a moment of quiet contemplation. "I will send just one letter this morning, before we take our leave."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N - I think I missed a day or so posting - am so sorry, this week has been a hectic one. Hopefully back on track now with a chapter a day for the foreseeable. Thank you for reading thus far :)_

* * *

While Elizabeth retired momentarily to ready herself for their proposed walk, Darcy retreated to his study, dashing off a quick note that he had intended to write at some point within the next few days and now proceeded to with all haste.

 _My dear Anne,_ he wrote. _Thank you for your congratulations on our wedding. I felt certain neither you nor Aunt Catherine might be pressed to attend, but was pleased nonetheless to receive your words. I wish to formally invite you to visit with us just as soon as you are able. I am quite sure you were already aware of my hospitality, but now I ask that you might come as soon as you can. I know Elizabeth is eager for some companionship, and to have you under our roof would be pleasing to us both. Please come. William._

He knew it likely that Anne would have a battle on her hands in proposing her plan to visit the new Mr and Mrs Darcy to her mother, but he felt strangely confident that nonetheless, she would succeed. Whilst Lady Catherine could be overbearing, he had been pleasantly surprised to see the ways in which Anne managed to wrest back a little of her independence, whether it merely be the independence of thought and feeling from her mother's dominant clutches. It would do her good to be in London and out of Lady Catherine's reach, at least for a little while.

Passing the note to his valet with the instruction that it be dispatched with all haste, he was dressed and waiting in the hallway as Elizabeth descended the stairs. He could not help but smile to see her looking so much like herself, and yet so much _un_ like herself at the same time. It was as if she had stepped out of the shadow of Longbourn into her own identity, yet he had never before considered her anything other than herself. Whatever it was, it suited her, and he offered her his arm with no small measure of pride.

"I hope you consider me smartly attired enough for a walk in the centre of London," she said, in a sly whisper. "I confess I despaired a little at my trousseau when I looked it over this morning. All of my proud declarations that I had no need of elegant clothing, within earshot of Mama, seem rather foolish now that I am faced with polite society. I am sure they shall glance at me and know right away that I am too far from home."

"Too far?" Darcy gestured behind them to the elegant front of his townhouse. "My dear _Mrs Darcy._ _"_ He thrilled at the use of her new title, encouraged even more by the smile its use provoked over her features. "This is your home now as well. And elegance for elegance's sake is something to be pitied, rather than admired, as you well know." He shrugged his shoulders. "If you feel the need of new attire, we might procure it for you - this very day if you desire it. But believe me when I say your gown quite the most beautiful I have seen, although I do not doubt that is rather more to do with its wearer than the silk itself."

Lizzy laughed.

"Now I know you are teasing me. Silk? Even I know enough that silk is reserved for ballrooms, and plain cotton, as I am wearing this morning, quite the best for walking. Now, foolish husband, where shall we walk?" Arm in arm they began to progress down the street, falling into companionable silence. Darcy was amazed at how naturally they fit together, how comfortably they kept pace with one another. They had fallen into the habit of walking together during their hasty engagement: first at Rosings, where they might be afforded some respite from Lady Catherine's vocal and extravagant disapproval of them individually and as a pair, and once more in Hertfordshire, as a way of securing a few moments' peace away from Elizabeth's overbearing family. In London, then, without necessity, it still seemed favourable to them both that the habit be continued, and they were able to easily comment on the houses they passed, pointing out people and places of interest. Elizabeth was not as familiar with this particular area of London as Darcy was, so he found himself making most of the observations, which were met with interest and happy inquiry from Elizabeth. They reached the park quickly and easily, and began to walk its familiar winding paths. Here, Elizabeth, too, felt free to share her own opinions and recollections of the park.

"I have not been often in London, as you know," she confessed. "Yet whenever I did visit my Aunt and Uncle I always insisted upon our visiting this park. It is quite the prettiest spot in London, and I would choose a duck pond over a ballroom at any opportunity!"

Elizabeth pointed out the aforementioned duck pond, and with a laugh, Darcy allowed himself to be tugged over to it, and to listen with delight as she named the species of water-bird one after another, feigning ignorance. He had devised a game where he would point one bird out, giving it the name of another, and insisting upon it, certain of his rightness, enjoying the spectacle of his new bride getting increasingly agitated at his pig-headed ignorance, and insisting instead that she was right, for any one of a dozen reasons she would now list for his pleasure and understanding. After two rounds of this, she caught the light in his eyes, and recognised the joke for what it was, and abandoned her description, poking him sharply in the arm.

"You are teasing me, sir!"

"I cannot deny it," he said, ducking his head. "Yet you are such a fun prospect for teasing that you must allow it, on this occasion."

"On this occasion?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "I am quite amazed to think that this idiot man is the gentleman I married." She narrowed her eyes, in an affectation of suspicion. "Are you quite sure you are Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley, and not some imposter? Certainly, I never knew the former to possess so avid a sense of humour."

"Ouch!" Darcy held his hand over his heart. "And now it is I who am wounded. If a man may not have a sense of humour the very day after he is married, I do not know what to say."

"Come, husband," Elizabeth said, sliding her arm through the crook of his elbow. "Let us walk, or one of us is liable to end up _in_ the pond with the water-birds, whether we can name them all correctly or not."

They walked on together, laughing and talking and enjoying one another's company and the greenness of their surroundings, when another couple, coming the opposite way down the path, stopped and hailed them.

"Darcy! What providence! Look, Caroline! We need not attempt to call on any friend at all, for here are Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth right in front of our noses!"


	14. Chapter 14

Caroline affixed a smile to her face with such ferocious effort that she felt the aching in her cheeks long before she had managed to squeeze a polite "good morning" from between her lips.

"Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley," Mr Darcy bowed his head in greeting. "I did not realise you were in London yet?"

There was a vague note of challenge in his question, levied entirely at her, Caroline felt certain, though his eyes were on Charles. It was true, she had been a little economical with the truth in declining Mr Darcy's invitation to his wedding, suggesting that she and Charles had an elderly aunt they must call on en route to London and would unfortunately not reach town in time to attend the wedding.

"Not here yet?" Charles laughed. "Of course -"

"Of course, plans change," Caroline put in, with an apologetic smile. "We did not think it right to thus upset the arrangements you already had in place for your wedding." She slid her glance over to Elizabeth, whose attention was also fixed on Charles, with a barely concealed note of irritation that it made Caroline irritated in turn. What right did Eliza Bennet have to think herself better than either Charles or Caroline herself? If she was going to assume airs within twenty-four hours of being wed, well!

"And how do the new Mr and Mrs Darcy fare?" she asked, icily.

"Very well, thank you, Miss Bingley."

Did Caroline imagine it, or had Elizabeth put a haughty inflexion over the title _Miss_? Her eyes narrowed. _Just because I do not choose to entrap myself a husband_ _…_

"Have you time to take some refreshments with us, Charles?" Mr Darcy asked. He covered Elizabeth's hand with his own. "It is rather too cold to stand still and make idle conversation, but perhaps we might retreat and take tea." He glanced around him, as if to seek his bearings. "There used to be a pleasant little place not too far…"

Charles supplied the name, and before Caroline could object, it was agreed upon as an ideal destination, and the four young folks found themselves seated at a table, shedding the layers required of the cold outside in favour of the comfortable interior, warmed by the fire blazing in the hearth.

"Miss Elizabeth," Charles began, before breaking off with a self-deprecating laugh. "Forgive me, _Mrs Darcy!_ " He paused, sitting back in his seat and shaking his head in bemusement. "How strange it is to call you so, and yet how content you seem together. I congratulate you."

Caroline's eyes rolled skywards. Her brother's friendliness bordered on flattery and merely served to rub salt into the very fresh wounds that still plagued her: that it was Eliza Bennet and not she who must be referred to by the name _Mrs Darcy_. How smug she was, on her husband's arm. How rarely she even dared to look away from him. _Likely she is reluctant to let him out of her sight,_ Caroline thought, spitefully. _She must know how ill-suited they are, and is living in fear of the time when he realises it too. How he will grow to despise her for enchanting him so._ This thought was of some comfort, however cold, and she felt the merest hint of a smile creep up her face.

"Is something amusing, Miss Bingley? Do, pray, let us all in on the joke." Darcy's voice was flat, and Caroline felt certain he had singled her out merely to make clear his disapproval of her, although what he could have to disapprove of her for, she did not know.

"I am merely happy to see you," she said, smoothly. "Both of you."

"Indeed." Elizabeth's reply was arch, and Caroline was forced to meet her gaze.

She knew that Elizabeth Bennet had rarely had any time for her: a state she preferred, for she had immediately dismissed Eliza as someone she would never choose to be friends with. They were polite, as society dictated, and affected friendship only when one perceived the need of the other. In Caroline's case, it was as much a matter of keeping her enemies close as it was of finding anything approaching friendship in any of the Bennet sisters. Jane's presence, she could actually tolerate a little easier, for she was sweet and good and made it easy to love her. Caroline's smile hardened. That did not, however, mean she wished for her brother to love Jane enough to marry her. No, indeed. Better their fledgeling relationship be ended as soon as it began.

"How is your - ah, your sister, Mrs - Elizabeth?" Charles asked, fumbling his way through the sentence as much because of his anxiety concerning its subject as because of his awkward attempt to recall Elizabeth Bennet's current form of address.

"You must be more specific, Mr Bingley," Elizabeth said, with a sweet smile. "I venture to think I might know to which sister you refer, but I would not presume to risk speaking so."

"Miss Bennet, that is, Miss _Jane_ Bennet. I trust - I trust that she is well?"

Elizabeth's hands tightened on her tea-cup, a motion so minuscule that it must have been missed by the gentlemen present, but Caroline's eagle eyes spotted it. She, too, did not approve of the direction Charles seemed determined to take the conversation and opened her mouth to change the subject.

"Eliza, dear, I wonder -"

"Miss Bingley," Mr Darcy cut across her, conjuring some topic of conversation that might be addressed directly to her and permit their friends to continue speaking uninterrupted. "Tell me, what are your plans for your time in London? You know, I am sure, that my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary are here, staying with Mr Fitzwilliam in town. I have also taken the liberty of inviting my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, to stay with us some time."

Caroline straightened. Ordinarily, Mr Darcy's attempt to engage her directly in conversation would be the highest compliment she could imagine. His mentioning Anne by name to her would be perceived an invitation for the two to become friends. Why, just two weeks earlier, she would be walking on air by this point, too elated to care even if Charles was moments away from declaring his love for Jane Bennet before the whole tea-room. Instead, her nerves were set on edge.

"I thought your aunt was - forgive me, but I was under the impression that she did not entirely approve of your marriage?" She smiled, warmly, to show that she, Caroline, was eminently in favour of the couple sitting before them. It was an act, but she had always thought herself a very fine actress.

Mr Darcy sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth.

"It is true she is not delighted by the news. But, Miss Bingley, recall it was of my _cousin_ that I spoke and not my aunt. Anne is very fond of Elizabeth, indeed I have never known her to be wrong in her judgments." He fixed Caroline with a look that she felt certain was intended to communicate far more than words. He was suggesting that she _had_ been mistaken, and might repent at her leisure, learning to value those she had once dismissed.

 _Allow myself to be taken in, you mean? I do not think so!_ Caroline straightened, meeting his gaze with a haughty smile. _My brother and you might both be fools, determined to believe the best of those who do not deserve your notice, but I am not so easily persuaded._ Still, this new arrival might prove useful. _Anne de Bourgh._ Caroline rolled the name around in her mind. She was not yet married, Caroline knew. And what were the words Mr Darcy had used to describe her in the past? Sweet-natured? Kind? Musical? She began to knit the details together. Might providence not have just provided her with the very thing she had been seeking: a preferable alternative to Jane Bennet as a focus for her brother's hapless affections? As the only daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Anne might move Mr Bingley - and she, as his sister and close confidante of Anne herself, for Caroline determined immediately that she would win the girl's affections and insert herself between any budding friendship between Anne and Eliza quite competently - into the kinds of circles they deserved to move in. Why, Caroline might have lost out on Mr Darcy, but if she could secure a connection between her brother and _Anne de Bourgh_ , that might bring a hundred men more prosperous, more successful and perhaps even titled, across her path.

 _You may keep your Mr Darcy, Eliza Bennet,_ Caroline thought, continuing to refer, in her own mind at least, to Elizabeth by her maiden name. _I shall outstrip you both._


	15. Chapter 15

"And will your family stay in London?" Mr Bingley asked, circling back to the topic of Jane, albeit without mentioning her directly. Elizabeth folded her hands before her, unsure what to make of Mr Bingley's evident interest in her sister. _Why spurn her, then?_ she wanted to ask. _Why leave her unsure of your affections? Why abandon her without word, without even a farewell?_

"My sister had intended on staying with Mr Darcy and me," she said, at last, meeting his pale blue eyes and holding his gaze carefully. "But she finds London fatiguing, and is wary of being in the way." She paused. "She would much rather be at home, among the family and friends she has there."

"Indeed," Charles nodded. "Yes, she is a very amiable sort of person. I do not doubt she has scores of friends and - and suitors - lining up all over Hertfordshire."

"If you think so, Mr Bingley, you do not know my sister," Elizabeth said, prickling at his suggestion that Jane was somehow a flirt or a tease, encouraging scores of men to fall at her feet if only to toy with their emotions and move on to the next. "She conceals her feelings only too well, at times. I assure you she does not often open her heart to people, and when she does, finds it ill-used."

Mr Bingley frowned, and it was on the tip of Lizzy's tongue to ask him outright why he had treated Jane so poorly, and why he affected, now, to care for her, when Lizzy knew he had been the one to do the damage to her sister's heart. Before she could challenge him further on the matter, though, Caroline Bingley cleared her throat and stood.

"Well, pleasant as it has been to cross paths with you, Mr Darcy, Eliza, we must really be on our way. Come along Charles."

Charles Bingley looked rather as if he would prefer to remain, to quiz Elizabeth further on Jane's fate and feelings, but at length he stood, reluctantly bidding Darcy and Elizabeth farewell, and following Caroline out of the tea shop.

"Tell me you did not engineer our meeting," Elizabeth said, turning to Darcy.

"How could I?" he asked. "I had it on good authority that they were not yet in London." His features sank into a frown. "That is, I had it on Caroline Bingley's authority. I do not like the way she orders Charles about so much."

"He seems content to let her," Elizabeth remarked, unwilling at that moment to give any ground to the man who had so upset poor Jane and seemed, now, unable or unwilling to acknowledge his cruelty.

"He is too good-natured," Darcy conceded. "And she is too manipulative." This last was muttered under his breath but Elizabeth could do nothing but concur with his assessment.

"I will allow you to think well of him, for he is your friend," she said, lacing her fingers through his. "But I cannot forgive him for the way he has treated poor Jane."

Darcy nodded, slowly, as if he were giving her words great consideration.

"Are you sure she could not be pressed into staying in London a little longer?" he asked. "I am sure, given time and the chance to see one another once again, things would be easily put right between them."

"Even if he does not deserve them to be?" Lizzy challenged. "He led her to believe there was real affection between them, and then disappeared without even a goodbye."

"I was not aware either party had spoken of their affections," Darcy said. "I mean, it was plain to me that Charles cared for Jane, but -" He broke off, smiling ruefully. "I will not speak ill of the man, for, as you say, he is my friend. But he is too inclined to lead with his heart and end up where his mind would not necessarily have led him, had he taken the time to listen to it."

Lizzy bristled, momentarily perceiving a slight against her sister, but she felt his fingers close warmly over hers.

"If what you say is true and he has walked away from the chance of happiness with Jane Bennet then he is a more foolish man than I thought him. The two seemed perfectly suited, yet who am I to make such an assessment? I am scarcely well versed in romantic success."

"Says Mr Darcy, the day after his wedding." Lizzy could not resist one sly, teasing comment, winning back the ease of conversation that had been disrupted, but not destroyed, by their meeting with Mr and Miss Bingley.

"As _Mrs Darcy_ is under no illusions of the parameters of our marriage, I will not hasten to remind her of them." He sighed, and for a moment Lizzy fancied she saw a flicker of melancholy pass over his features. She slid her hand out from under his, suddenly fearing she had been too affectionate, too familiar, and if he regretted the motion he did not show it.

"Come, let us walk some more. It is stuffy in here and I am eager for some more exercise before we return home."

"Very well," Darcy said, hauling himself upright. "I can see I shall certainly not want for activity in our future together."

"Insofar as you refer to walking, yes, I will permit it," Lizzy said, dancing ahead of him a few steps. "But I maintain my utter reluctance to ever step near a horse." She shuddered. "You shall be forced to ride alone or with friends, sir, for I have never been fond of the creatures, and they seem, as a breed, to despise me."

"Is that so?" Darcy's eyebrow arched rakishly, and Elizabeth laughed.

"You would not be so wicked as to force me to confront my fears!"

"No, indeed, I would not," Darcy said, contritely. He walked a moment or two in silence, speeding up so that Lizzy was forced almost to run to keep pace with him. His last word was a breath on the wind so that she could be entirely sure she heard it. _"Yet."_


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N - so sorry posting has been a bit spotty of late. I'm in the middle of a hectic stretch and won't be online for the next few days, so I'm posting a few chapters now to hopefully make up for my general rubbish-being._

 _That said, I am grateful as ever for all of you reading and commenting and I hope you are enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!_

 _More soon xx_

* * *

Anne's arrival in London came far sooner than either Darcy or Elizabeth might have hoped for, and just a few days later she was sitting in the parlour taking tea and chatting with the new Mrs Darcy, as if she had always been there.

"Thank you so much for coming," Darcy said, pleased and happy to see the friendly way his wife and cousin had greeted one another, and feeling certain that his decision to invite Anne had been a good one.

"It is I who ought to thank you, for the invitation," she replied. "I can only apologise that my mother remains pitched against your happiness." She smiled, grimly. "I am hopeful that with time she will relent her opposition. It does not seem to matter how energetically I deny any romantic connection between us, William, and emphatically reassure her that my heart is not broken, she still sees it as a dreadful snub." She shook her head. "I despair of trying to convince her otherwise, and so am grateful that you have offered me an escape, however brief, from the eternal dominion of her disappointment."

Darcy felt a flicker of concern for his aunt, for, whilst he did not care for her interference he did not wish to hear of her being brought low by his actions. He was reassured almost immediately by Anne, who turned to Elizabeth and began to engage her once more in conversation.

"I am sure you can sympathise, Elizabeth, for mothers can be a trial even to the most strong-willed of us, and I confess I am not as brave as you in defying those who seek to tyrannise over me."

"You speak as if I had slain a dragon!" Elizabeth laughed. "When the truth is far more mundane. No, indeed, Mama was quite content to hear of me marrying Mr Darcy, and readily surrendered Mr Collins and Hunsford for Mr Darcy and Pemberley." She met Darcy's eyes with a wicked smile. "She quite dotes on you now, does she not?"

He grimaced, enduring the laughter of both young women, and recalled how tightly Mrs Bennet had gripped hold of his arm at the wedding, and bid him listen to her rhapsodise about some inconsequential matter about which he professed no personal opinion.

 _Still, I would rather an affectionate mother-in-law than one drawn up in opposition,_ he thought, thinking of poor Anne's fate. It would ease her suffering to have her stay with them, for he felt certain that his aunt would be so entranced to hear the news from London upon her daughter's return that her anger at Darcy's impetuous marriage would be overlooked, at least a little.

"What plans do you have, while you are here, cousin?" he asked, sensing a lull in the conversation. "You will wish to visit Mary and Richard, no doubt, and see Philip and Louisa while you are there. Have you any other acquaintances in London with which you wish to spend time?"

"One or two," Anne said, in a low voice. "Although, of course, my chief objective is in spending time with my new cousin." She smiled at Elizabeth. "Perhaps we might take advantage of our location, too, and visit a museum, or hear some music. I have spent so long in the country I am actually eager for a little excitement."

This confession surprised Darcy, for he recalled Anne's nature as being sanguine and calm, little interested in the hustle and bustle of fashionable London. He tilted his head, regarding her carefully, but she looked the same as she ever had. He took her comment as it was intended, then, a natural enjoyment of all that was different about London from her usual habitation in Kent.

"If music is your desire, I might suggest a visit to the Royal Academy. They have a famous harpist in residence, and I believe the programme will be to your liking." He turned to Elizabeth. "Perhaps Mary might be interested to hear it as well, and we might take a party."

His suggestion was met with enthusiasm, so he did not speak aloud the rest of his thought: that whilst Mary might be eager to listen to music, her husband would doubtlessly be more reluctant. _Still, Richard, now you are married you must accept your fate. It cannot be all adventure!_ For his own part, he would prefer listening to a concert than attending an assembly, and was glad that his companions were not so eager to be amongst society that they would force him into it when he did not choose.

"We must discover what is playing when, so that we might choose the most opportune evening," Anne said. "You are so kind to suggest it, cousin. And, Elizabeth, are you managing to walk, despite being so far from the countryside?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said, with a laugh. "I walk with regularity even if I may not roam quite as I am used to. The parks here are so pleasant, and lively."

"And filled with friends," Darcy said, recounting the tale of their meeting with Charles Bingley and his sister a day or two previously.

"I did not realise they had come to London as well!" Anne said. "Why, it seems everybody is here. How sad your sister Jane could not be persuaded to stay." Anne frowned. "And how strange, for I rather fancied, from the way you spoke of them, that she and Mr Bingley had formed an attachment with one another."

"No," Lizzy said, sharply. "I thought as much, but it appears we were mistaken. Mr Bingley has no feeling for my sister, and poor Jane is far happier at home than constantly being reminded of the fact."

There was an awkward moment of silence, and Darcy cleared his throat, eager to return to happier topics, but before he could think of something to say, Anne's voice broke the quiet.

"What a muddle people's hearts are!" She sighed. "How glad I am that both of my cousins have been so fortunate in their affections. Now, Elizabeth, tell me more about your wedding, for I wish to know everything in detail, so that I might imagine I had been there and seen it myself, instead of trapped at home with only my piano for company!"


	17. Chapter 17

The evening at the Royal Academy came around quickly, and after a couple of quiet days, allowing Anne time to recover from her trip and slowly acclimatise to life in London, both young ladies were eager for some entertainment. Darcy, too, was looking forward to the evening out, although this was rather a new experience for him. Generally, in London, he relished the opportunity to remain at home, yet here he was not only responsible for suggesting the outing, he was entirely predisposed to enjoy himself, reuniting with Colonel Fitzwilliam and taking the opportunity to be seen amidst his contemporaries with his new wife on his arm.

The Academy was busy, but not uncomfortably so. Where on previous occasions, Darcy might have felt stifled by the press of bodies, and the stuffy heat, this evening, he found himself enjoying the shadows cast by the candlelight, smiling and nodding in greeting to people he recognised and knew, by sight or reputation.

"Jolly good idea of yours, Darcy," Richard remarked, coughing noisily into his handkerchief, and grimacing.

"Are you suffering?" Darcy asked, feeling a sudden flare of anxiety at the unhealthy rattle in his cousin's breath.

"Just a cold," Richard said, with a good-natured shrug. "I suppose I was not so entirely recovered as I'd assumed. It shan't hold me back, and I assure you I'm more than content to be away from the house."

"Is Philip so difficult to live with?"

"Yes and no." Richard smiled, grimly. "It is rather like living with a stranger, only one who shares your name and feels he has some right to share his opinions with you on every matter of your life, whether you wish to hear them or not." He sighed. "At least Mary has won over Louisa, and so she fares rather better in the familial interrogation."

Darcy clapped his cousin on the shoulder.

"You'll not have to bear it so very much longer. Can you not find some excuse to spend Christmas elsewhere? Perhaps a visit back to Hertfordshire? I do not doubt Mr and Mrs Bennet would be pleased to host you for the season."

"The thought had occurred to me!" Richard admitted, with a toothy grin. "Alas they will already be housing the Gardiners, and I do not like to add to their burden. Also, I am not entirely convinced that trading one branch of inquisition for another will fully allow me the break I wish." He drew a breath. "No, I shall bear with my brother and learn to emulate my cousin's stoicism." He lifted his chin, allowing his brow to settle into a frown reminiscent of Darcy's own. "Is this how one does it?" He lifted his lip in a sneer, and Darcy laughed to see himself so accurately portrayed.

"You are fortunate I am in so beneficent a mood, cousin, that I can let such idle mockery slide."

"Yes, I must acknowledge that marriage has softened you for the better." Richard turned to look a few paces ahead, where Mary had hurried to greet Elizabeth and Anne, and the three ladies now stood with their heads bent close together, whispering over some delicious secret like old friends.

"And it is pleasant to have Anne amongst us once more."

"Yes, thank God she allowed herself to be rescued from Kent. I imagine Aunt Catherine still despairs over your eternal soul, being joined to Elizabeth's into the hereafter instead of remaining firmly chained to the family?"

If she does, she has kept her feelings to herself," Darcy said, with a shrug. "I do not doubt she will relent, in time."

"When next she wants something," Richard put in.

"Indeed."

There was a move towards the doorway, and the crowd began to file into the room, taking their seats so that they might see - and be seen near - the harpist and the small orchestra that accompanied her.

"Shall we go in?" Darcy asked, as the ladies returned to them.

"Eliza! Mary!" A grating feminine voice broke through the muffled conversations surrounding them, causing Darcy to stiffen. He recognised it immediately and had scarcely managed to rearrange his answering grimace into a polite smile when Caroline Bingley bore down upon the group, embracing first Elizabeth and then Mary enthusiastically, as if they were long-separated friends. "And goodness me, Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam! Fancy seeing you here."

"Fancy." Richard beamed at her, mirroring her own enthusiasm with his trademark hint of mockery. "Are you alone, Miss Bingley? Surely you have not sought to attend the evening unescorted?"

"No, indeed!" Caroline shook her head. "Charles is with me…Charles!" she barked, and her brother hurried to join them.

"Darcy! Well, I am glad to see you here! And Colonel Fitzwilliam, what a pleasant turn of events." Bingley jovially greeted all present, and Darcy noticed he was welcomed with rather more genuine warmth than his sister, who continued to pointedly glance towards Anne. At length, she cleared her throat.

"Will you not introduce us, Mr Darcy?"

With a grudging acknowledgement, Darcy bowed his head and addressed his friends.

"This is my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh. Anne, these are some friends of ours, Mr Charles and Miss Caroline Bingley. I do not recall if you have met before?"

"We have not," Anne smiled, warmly at Charles, and rather less so at his sister. "Although I have been rather acquainted with you by reputation. You have been in Hertfordshire of late, if I recall correctly?"

This was the perfect question, for it prompted Charles to respond with enthusiasm, and he launched into a happy description of Netherfield and its surroundings, praising not only the environment of Hertfordshire but extolling the virtues of their neighbours, including but not limited to the very pair of sisters that were with them at present. Caroline tolerated this as long as she must, before interrupting with an extravagant sigh.

"We ought not to delay too much longer, Charles, for we must hurry if we wish to all sit together."

This was uttered as a point of fact, and could not easily be disputed, so instead, Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, falling into place behind their friends. Through some manoeuvring on her part, Caroline succeeded in somehow seating herself between Anne and her brother, and Darcy shot an amused glance at Elizabeth, wondering if Miss Bingley's engineering was as apparent to his wife as it was to him. Elizabeth's expression was less than amused, as she regarded Charles Bingley with something approaching disapproval. Had she still not forgiven him for his untimely departure from Hertfordshire? Darcy swallowed his own amusement, feeling certain that Elizabeth's anger was not something that ought to be mocked. No, the situation must be rectified, and Charles taken to task for his actions. He did not doubt his friend had not intended any hurt, and, if made aware of the pain his actions had caused would seek to undo them. Surely it would not take much.


	18. Chapter 18

When the last note had finished reverberating around the elegant hall, the audience erupted into polite applause.

"Wasn't it beautiful?" Mary breathed, her eyes bright.

Elizabeth laughed, to see her sister so enthralled.

"Will you be wanting to learn the harp, now?" she asked, meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam's gaze over her sister's shoulders and raising her eyebrows. "Beware, Colonel Fitzwilliam, we have possibly thrown open the door to another new hobby for my sister to seek to pursue."

"Is a piano no longer enough, my dear?" he asked, pursing his lips. "A harp too? Well if you wish it, of course we may purchase it, only…" He lowered his voice and grinned at the two ladies. "Perhaps we ought to see about securing a _house_ , first?"

The three burst into laughter, which caught Darcy's interest and won for them a snide glance from Caroline, and a whisper she directed towards Anne which Elizabeth felt certain concerned their countrified behaviour.

"I am surprised that Mr and Miss Bingley are here," Mary said, in a low voice. "How is Jane?"

"Broken-hearted," Lizzy said, grimly. "Although I certainly do not think Mr Bingley deserves her tears. Any man who could so easily abandon a lady he claimed to love…" she did not finish her thought, merely pulled her lips into a tight grimace which indicated her displeasure quite appropriately without the need of words.

"I felt certain he cared for her," Mary said, glancing over at their friends. "Indeed, he hardly seems happy to be in London."

Elizabeth peered over, hoping to see what her sister noticed. Gone was the perpetual grin Mr Bingley had worn upon their associations in Hertfordshire. Indeed, his complexion was altogether paler, his lips turning down, and his eyes seemed habitually to stare ahead as if he were not entirely paying attention to where he was, preferring to retreat inward and nurse his thoughts. _He looks,_ Elizabeth realised with a jolt _, as if_ he _is the one who has been spurned!_ Yet how could that be true? Jane admitted that she had waited only for Mr Bingley to speak, and had made her feelings quite as clear as she dared. She had felt certain that they were cherished, returned even. Yet, instead of speaking, Mr Bingley had vanished, without so much as a farewell.

"You must call on us while you are in London, Miss de Bourgh," Caroline said, her voice loud enough to penetrate the group that Elizabeth was part of. "I would very much like to see you, and know my brother would also welcome your visit, is that not so, Charles?"

Mr Bingley did not respond. Indeed, it struck Elizabeth, from her brief glances towards them, that he was not even aware that his sister had spoken.

"Charles," Caroline hissed. He straightened at the sharp tone and turned a vague smile towards the two ladies.

"Oh - er, yes," he stammered, forcing a smile that was polite if not half as enthusiastic as those he had worn in Meryton or at Netherfield. "Whatever you wish, sister."

Caroline's eyebrows knit into a dark line, but when she turned back to Anne, her features were implacable once more.

"You see? We would both very much like to see you. Do come. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon?"

"So soon?" Anne asked, her patient voice a little tried by the effort of facing Caroline Bingley's enthusiastic quest for friendship, for it was apparent to Elizabeth, if nobody else, that this was Caroline's chief design. To win Anne de Bourgh's friendship, and perhaps be elevated, by so doing, into the higher echelons of London society that she so wished to reach. Yet Anne was not a widely sociable creature. Elizabeth felt a malicious amusement at how Caroline's plan was hardly destined for success. She might win herself a friend - and Anne would be a good friend and a kind one - but if she was seeking introductions or social capital from the relationship, then she would be sorely disappointed.

"Is it ever too soon for new friends to spend time together?" Caroline said, at last, following her words with a silly little laugh to indicate they were an attempt at humour. "But, you are right, I am sure there are a great many people you must visit whilst you are in town." This was a calculated comment, Elizabeth felt certain, and it won the response she had clearly gambled on.

"Well, I do not see why I might not spare a quarter hour or more to call on such kind acquaintances as you and your brother, Miss Bingley. Please, do me the honour of telling me your address." She fixed her friend with attention, intending on committing the details to memory, but Caroline reached into her reticule and pulled out a card from a selection that she must have taken to carrying with her.

"Here," she said, passing the notecard to Anne with a flourish. "We shall be in all afternoon, and you will be very welcome indeed, will she not, Charles?"

"Indeed," Charles said, nodding fervently, although it was apparent he had heard only the vaguest details of the conversation and agreed only because it was expected of him.

When Elizabeth wrenched her attention back to her companions, she noticed Colonel Fitzwilliam holding a handkerchief to his lips, and Mary watching him carefully with concern etched into her features.

"Is something the matter, Colonel Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked. "You are not unwell, I hope?"

"Just my lungs." He smiled, returning the handkerchief to his pockets and thumping on his chest as if to indicate the uselessness of the organ. "They still cause me trouble on occasion, as a result of some ill-health I suffered in the regiment. It's nothing to worry about." He met Mary's eyes with his own, widening them slightly. "I promise!"

"You can promise all you like, Richard, but I do not think it wise to go gallivanting if you aren't well," Mary said, her concern lending her voice an arch tone. "You must stay at home tomorrow, and rest."

"Your wish is my command!" He waggled his eyebrows at his wife with a comical grin, and both ladies laughed.

"Are you to remain at home with him, Mary dear?" Elizabeth asked, linking her arm through her sister's. "I am looking for an excuse for a walk, perhaps I might find myself in your street and be forced to call on the house and take a cup of tea?"

"That would be wonderful!" Mary said, beaming. "And you must spend a little time with Louisa."

Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned loudly into Mary's shoulder, and his wife continued in a blithe voice, utterly ignoring his disapproval.

"She and Mr Fitzwilliam are so good and so kind, although quite different from us." Mary smiled, earnestly. "Still, I think you will get on quite well with Louisa. Do you know, Lizzy, she is an acquaintance of Mrs Radcliffe?"

"Indeed?" This detail piqued Lizzy's curiosity, and she determined all the more fervently that she would call on the Fitzwilliams the very next day.

"She has been in the same room as her, you mean," Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked, with a snort. "It is not the same as being close friends, although she has dined out on the very name _Radcliffe_ far more than any woman ought, regardless of the closeness of their relationship. I am quite sure even Mrs Radcliffe herself has not such a penchant for dropping her name into conversations it has no business being in."

"Richard, as you see, is very fond of his sister-in-law." Mary smiled wickedly at her husband, who was left speechless in return.

A movement at the corner of her eye caught Elizabeth's attention, and she glanced up in time to see Darcy walk over to join his cousin and friends. Caroline looked a little put out by the way Anne's face gained animation and colour as she turned to speak with her cousin, and Darcy's unusually droll conversation even succeeded in drawing Charles out of his quiet mood, although Lizzy fancied there was a morose cloud still over the other young man's usually sunny countenance. Caroline found herself quite expertly elbowed out of Anne's immediate circle, and could barely keep the ensuing scowl from her features. Her apparent effort was so trying that Elizabeth could hardly fail to keep a smile from creeping up over her features. _It ought not to please me so much to see you routed, Caroline, yet I cannot help but remember every cruel thing you ever said - or hinted at - about my family and feel some satisfaction when you face opposition._ Her gaze strayed to Mr Bingley once more, and she wondered if the decision to return early to London had indeed been his, and his alone. It was Caroline who loved London society, Caroline who sought to return to it, and - Lizzy's lips drew down into a firm line - Caroline who sought to separate her brother from a match she felt was beneath him. Was Charles Bingley even aware of the hurt his actions had caused Jane? Or had Caroline found a way to convince him that this abandonment was what Jane chose - what she wanted, even? _Oh, Jane,_ Elizabeth thought, with a woeful memory of her sister's pale, disappointed face at the news of Mr Bingley's departure. _Why could you not have remained in London, where we might have solved this separation so easily!_


	19. Chapter 19

Neither the Fitzwilliams nor the Darcys were eager to part that evening, and delayed some time in bidding one another farewell, with myriad promises to meet the next day. It was Elizabeth and Mary who clung to one another the longest, engaged in a deep and evidently secret conversation, judging from its low volume and sporadic glances over one or other of the sister's shoulders. Darcy waited, patiently, for his wife to finish her scheming, or at least, and he felt certain this the more likely outcome, to place a pin in it until it could be continued with full fervour the next day.

"Poor Richard," he remarked, as Anne drew close enough to him that they might speak without fear of being overheard.

"How so?" she asked, turning a quizzical glance towards him.

"Regard my wife and her sister," Darcy said, with a nod towards the pair. "They are clearly planning something of utmost complexity and importance, for it occupies them even now, when other decent folks are beginning to turn their thoughts towards rest and returning home. I would wager my life on the fact that this is just a precursor to all that they might discuss tomorrow. Poor Richard, for if he is not yet involved in the scheme, he will be drawn into it tomorrow, merely by virtue of proximity to the schemers." He snorted.

Anne tilted her head to one side, regarding the pair thoughtfully.

"You do not intend on accompanying your wife?" she asked.

"I was not invited," Darcy reminded her.

"You were not _not_ invited," Anne countered. Her eyes sparkled with fun. "Unless, of course, you prefer to accompany me on my visit to Mr and Miss Bingley?"

Her innocent tone did not hide the amusement she felt at offering Darcy such an alternative, and his evident horror at the suggestion caused her to laugh out loud.

"I ought not to tease you, I know, for the Bingleys are your friends, and I am a guest in your home."

" _Mr_ Bingley is my friend," Darcy clarified. "And you are resident in my home, yes, but hardly a guest. You are family."

"That is kind of you to say, William." Anne smiled, wistfully, and Darcy wondered if she was thinking of home.

"I hope my marriage to Elizabeth has not unduly soured your relationship with your mother," he said, in a low voice. "I know it cannot please her to see you seem to take our side."

"I do not _seem_ to take it. I have told her I very much approve of the match," Anne retorted. "She chooses still to lament over what might have been." She shook her head, emphatically. "Forgive me, William, but even if she had engineered for you to actually ask me to marry you, I rather think I would have struggled to say yes."

"I understand." Darcy nodded, sagely. "I am indeed a terrible prospect for a husband." His grim smile was all to indicate his humour, and Anne flashed white, momentarily fearing she had quite insulted him with her words. After a moment, Darcy smiled, and she relaxed, visibly, realising he had intended the remark as a sarcastic one and certainly bore her no ill-will for his feelings.

"You need not dread calling upon the Bingleys tomorrow. From what I could tell tonight you are already a firm favourite with both of them, and even Caroline Bingley is well equipped to make herself agreeable to any person she is predisposed to like." He bowed his head. "Such as your fair self. Her brother is altogether without artifice, a good man through and through. I fear him a little lovelorn at present, but that ought not to distract too much from his general good temperament."

"Yes, I was surprised to see him break with Miss Bennet," Anne piped up.

Darcy grimaced.

"I would not doubt if that is a key component of the current scheming betwixt the two _nee Bennets_ yonder. I admit I thought it strange myself that Bingley should leave Hertfordshire so abruptly, and still more so upon discovering that nothing had been settled between him and Miss Bennet. Elizabeth seems to think that he has abandoned her and I do not disagree it is a cruel trick to appear affectionate towards a young lady only to disappear without warning or apology, if that is indeed what has happened."

"And yet you speak of his being a _good man_. Would such a good man act so cruelly?"

Darcy shook his head, vehemently.

"This is why I speak of the _appearance_ of cruelty. I rather fancy that Charles' activity has been directed by another person close to him and that this sudden removal to London was not his doing at all, rather in accordance with his sister's wishes. You have met Miss Bingley, tell me, does she strike you as a compliant, agreeable figure?"

Anne said nothing, but her eyes danced with fun, evidently comparing Miss Caroline Bingley to Lady Catherine and seeing some similarity in the desire to control, manipulate and push one's own plans forwards, regardless of the wishes of one's family and friends.

"I do not doubt she has filled Charles' head with nonsense concerning poor Miss Bennet, and alas as the young lady in question could not be pressed into remaining in London to meet with Mr Bingley, there has been no chance to clear up the mistake."

"I have not yet met Miss Bennet, as you know," Anne said, after a moment of thoughtful silence. "But having met two of her sisters, and seeing how their very presence has changed both of my cousins for the better -" Darcy opened his mouth to complain, but was silenced by a look, and frowned, allowing Anne nonetheless to continue speaking, uncensored. "I can only imagine her to be a wonderful creature, one Mr Bingley would be fortunate to win the affections of." She folded her arms in a determined manner. "And if he has been led to think otherwise, I shall do my utmost to redress the balance in her favour." Her voice dropped, in pitch as well as tone, taking on a dangerously serious note. "Nobody should be kept from their true love on account of misunderstanding or formality, or due to the interference of others who claim to know better."

Her words were not spoken lightly, and Darcy felt certain they pertained to more than merely Bingley and his interfering sister. Surely she intended to reassure him that his own actions in marrying Elizabeth were indeed right, regardless of her mother's opinion.

Encouraged, he smiled, lifting his eyes slightly so that they rested on his bride once more.

"How right you are, cousin. One ought not to be forced to marry - or kept from marrying - the person they love."


	20. Chapter 20

Returning to their townhouse, Anne was the first to excuse herself and bid Darcy and Elizabeth good evening. She had been quiet the whole journey home, quiet enough that Elizabeth had begun to wonder if her friend was quite well. Not wanting to draw Darcy's attention to Anne's discomfort, nor to worry him unduly, she skirted the matter carefully, as they prepared to retire for the evening.

"I hope Anne was not over-tired by the evening's concert?" she asked.

"I think she rather enjoyed the outing," Darcy said, with a smile. "Did not you?"

"Very much." Elizabeth smiled, fervently, admiring the way Darcy's dark eyes gleamed in the reflected light of the fire. _And I enjoyed being there with you_ , she thought, but did not say. Her feelings towards her husband had been changing even in the short time since their wedding, or rather, not changing, for that would indicate they had not existed in some form before. She had begun to recognise the true nature of her feelings towards him, and marvelled that she, who had always prided herself on knowing her own mind, had managed so well to ignore the truth: that she cared deeply for Mr Darcy and had no more married him for convenience than because it had been the deepest wish of her heart since their first muddled acquaintance.

He cleared his throat, and turned his attention to the papers in front of him, and Elizabeth smiled. _Well, perhaps not from our first acquaintance._ She had certainly been predisposed to dislike him, and he had done little to dissuade her of the notion. Yet now, it was as if she were seeing him for the first time.

"Are you intending on observing me all evening, my dear? Because if so I must warn you that even I am growing weary after the evening's excitements and will retire to my own room before very much longer." His lips crept up at the edges as he spoke, indicating good humour, and Lizzy let out a laugh of approval, both at his sentiment at his good mood.

"Yes, you are quite right!" she acknowledged. "It is very late, and I must preserve my energy for tomorrow's visit to your cousin."

"Your cousin, too," Darcy said, laying down his newspaper and hauling himself to his feet. "By marriage." He crossed the room in two long strides, and stood in front of her. "And your sister, you must not forget you possess a link to the Fitzwilliams that even I do not."

"Your sister, too," Elizabeth said, turning his own words back to him. "By marriage."

"Indeed." Darcy smiled, dropping his gaze as if realising something that shocked him, but still made him laugh to acknowledge.

"Something funny?" Elizabeth asked, dropping her own gaze to meet his.

"It struck me as amusing all of a sudden." His tone took on the notion of confession, a whispered secret he entrusted only to her. "I first came to Hertfordshire at my friend's invitation, but that was not my only reason for doing so, nor was it my chief concern."

"No?" Elizabeth hardly cared for the story, but there was something about the interplay of the shadows on her husband's face, the gentleness of his tone of voice that made her wish for him to keep talking. Indeed, he might have recited the business figures of a fleet of His Majesty's ships at the Cape, and she would have listened with rapt attention to every cadence of his voice.

"I wished to prevent Bingley from making a mistake I felt certain was mere days away," Darcy continued. "In marrying a Miss Bennet who was, I was angrily informed by his sister, far beneath his notice and station."

Elizabeth felt a flare of anger as she deciphered his words, and she straightened, but at the movement, Darcy reached out, threading his own fingers through hers, and holding her fast. Her mild irritation fell away, disappearing entirely as he continued speaking.

"I did not dream I would lose my own heart in the process. I certainly did not imagine, of the two of us, that I would be wed before him, and happily so."

His voice took on an urgency that was reflected in the way his eyes lit on her face, resting first on her lips, then her eyes, then darting away altogether, before returning once more to hold her gaze in place.

"It appears I have deceived you, Mrs Darcy, and it is imperative that I now do what is in my power to undo the damage."

"Yes?" Elizabeth's heart beat rapidly, but it was not out of fear. She felt a sudden certainty, a knowing deep in her soul that this man, the man that she had married, would never hurt her. He would take any amount of pain on his own shoulders before allowing a single blow to reach her.

"I said I wished to marry you for convenience only, to allow each of us the opportunity to escape the matches others would make for us. That was only partly true."

Elizabeth's mouth was dry, and with an effort she wet her lips, her voice coming out a croaked whisper, when she did at last speak, more a sound than a discernible word.

"Oh?"

"I wished to offer you an escape from your cousin, but I wished to marry you because I - I love you." Uttering the words aloud seemed to give Darcy courage and he spoke them again, once, twice in quick succession, gaining energy with each utterance. "I love you, Elizabeth, I love you." His features fell, so quickly that even Elizabeth struggled to keep up with the interplay of moods across his countenance. "I cannot hope that you love me, but I was encouraged this evening that, even if it be folly to reveal my hand so early on, even if you are never able to learn to return my feelings, I could not go on without you knowing the truth. I love you, Mrs Elizabeth Darcy."

Elizabeth's mind was blank, and she could summon no words adequate to offer in return for the gift he had given her, in confessing his true feelings, in opening up to her and allowing her to see him as he truly was. She could think of nothing to say in return, and so she did the most natural thing she could. She leaned closer to him, lifting slightly onto her toes to reach his height, and pressed her lips softly against hers. The action startled him at first, and he reeled backwards, but he regained his balance a moment later and it seemed as if no further words were necessary: would never be necessary. They may have married under a pretence of pragmatism, but neither of them wished to hide behind it any longer. They loved each other then: they loved each other now: and they had a lifetime together in which they might love each other still more.


	21. Chapter 21

The clock on the mantel ticked at odds with Caroline's nerves. She had already been forced to rip out several stitches that were uneven, and eventually had thrown her embroidery aside in a fit of pique. Next, she had attempted to play the piano, but even that was unsettled by the ticking of the clock, which served an unhelpful metronome. Where usually the tiny clock mechanism proceeded entirely unnoticed by Caroline, today it punctuated every thought, and she was managed by it, by the passing of time, as never before.

 _Do call on us, Miss de Bourgh_ , she thought, grimly recalling the previous evening. _Foolish Caroline. You ought to have specified a time._ With no specific moment given, the call might be expected imminently, and had been, by Caroline, since the moment she laid down her cutlery at breakfast. It would not be proper to expect a call so early, she knew, but Miss Anne de Bourgh was so used to life at her family's country estate that there was always the possibility that she was not yet used to London times and might call early. _Rosings._ Caroline loved the sound of the name, as it reverberated through her mind, conjuring images of romantic rose-bushes and elegant, fairy-tale houses.

In any case, the expectation of the promised call weighed heavily upon her, and she had striven to be ready at a moment's notice, refusing to see a friend who had chanced to call and claiming a headache that she would doubtless be forced to make up for later in the week. It mattered not. Harriet Parker was no Anne de Bourgh, and was in thrall enough to Caroline that any excuse might be enough to undo any upset. A headache was not an unheard of excuse, particularly after an evening at the Royal Academy, for Harriet would be thrilled to hear of the harpist Caroline had seen. Her friend was a great admirer of the arts, despite being tone deaf, and shackled to a brother who cared nothing for anything other than cards and brandy. Poor Harriet was never permitted to attend concerts or talks, and only occasionally welcomed to dinners or assemblies. She had latched onto Caroline quite by chance some seasons previously and Caroline encouraged the friendship whenever she was in London, for it soothed her to have one friend, at least, who could do nothing but admire her.

Once her most profuse apologies had been relayed to Harriet, she had turned her attention to filling her hours until Anne de Bourgh arrived, but not in undertaking any task that might cause her to be distracted, or to appear anything other than properly ready to receive her guest when she did come. Miss de Bourgh might have promised them only a quarter of an hour, but Caroline knew that that could easily be stretched, particularly if she "just happened to summon tea at the very moment you chose to arrive, how providential, Miss Anne!" She had practised this particular phrase before her looking-glass that morning, in order to achieve just the right note of happy surprise, and to offer Anne no chance of escape.

 _Not that I wish to keep her prisoner!_ she thought, with a dark smile. No, she merely wished to cultivate a friendship with the young lady, and stood a far better chance of doing so here, in her own home, and away from the auspices of Mr and Mrs Darcy. Her smile darkened further, into little more than a grimace. So much had changed in Mr Darcy's attitude towards her since he had become enamoured with Eliza Bennet, and it was not merely the change in his status from a bachelor to a newly-married gentleman. Caroline felt certain that Eliza herself had poisoned Mr Darcy towards her, for where before he met her rejoinders with a polite response or a smile, lately his eyes met her unblinking, his features unmoved, as if he tolerated her merely on account of her relationship to his dear friend.

And as for Charles! Caroline brought her piano practice to a crashing halt, yet even that was not enough to startle her brother from his reverie. He sat in the window, looking out over the London street and affecting to read, which she knew to be mere artifice for two reasons. The first, that Charles rarely read by choice any novel whatsoever, and the second because he had scarcely had reason to turn the page in the past quarter of an hour. In fact, Caroline wondered if the book was even right-side up, were he to cast his eyes upon it.

Pushing the piano stool back, Caroline stood, and stalked a little closer to her brother's solitary position.

"What is it that attracts your interest, so, Charles?" she asked, willing her voice to appear light and curious, rather than mildly irritated. She need not have worried, for Charles looked up only at her movement in approaching him, and his features creased into a frown indicating he had not heard her, and had scarcely even been aware of her presence within the room. With exaggerated patience, Caroline repeated her question, and Charles shrugged.

"There is nothing but the daily business of London," he said, with a sigh. "I fancied catching sight of a person I might recognise, but that is folly, for she - that is, they -" He trailed off, fixing his attention on his book with a ferocity that would have been amusing, had Caroline not been so annoyed by what her brother had not quite said. Shaking his head, he turned the book around, and affected once more to read, this time with a little more conviction.

"I assume by "she" you mean Jane Bennet?" Caroline asked, quietly. _One of us must mention her, at last_ , she thought, and determined to get the deed done before Anne de Bourgh might arrive. She certainly did not wish Charles' attention to be fixed on the eldest Miss Bennet when it might instead be captured by the only Miss de Bourgh.

"I wonder, Caroline, if you think it wise if I was to write to Miss Bennet. Purely as a friend, you know, for I am a friend of the whole family, really." He brightened as he said this, gaining encouragement from his words. "I might tell her of our reunion with Miss Elizabeth - with Mr and Mrs Darcy, I mean, and with Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam, too. Surely she would like to hear how well her sisters are doing." He paused. "Yet, maybe the letter ought to come from you, that is rather more proper, is not it?"

"I wrote just a few days ago," Caroline lied. "Merely to say that we were disappointed that she did not stay in London long enough that we might see her. It seems she could not be persuaded, despite Eliza's best efforts, and so you must draw what conclusions you will from that." She shrugged, as if to draw the topic to a close.

"It does not seem like her," Charles murmured. "To so pointedly avoid those she, until recently, considered friends. I wonder what I might have done to cause her to so thoroughly remove herself from our acquaintance." He pondered a moment more, and Caroline held her breath, wishing he would not strain himself to decipher the unusual actions of Miss Jane Bennet. They were unusual, and out of character, for the Jane that Charles knew. Yet he was unaware that in her own way, Caroline had engineered this situation to unfold exactly as it was. The Jane Charles knew would never have passed up an opportunity to see him: but then the real Jane Bennet was, herself, assured that Charles would not wish to see her. Not for the first time, she felt a flash of guilt in interfering in her brother's affairs to this extent.

 _If he was not so fixed on making a match with a most unsuitable young lady, then I would not need to interfere,_ she thought, with a prim smile. _Besides, Charles is many things, but he is not entirely discerning. Surely one young fair-haired maiden is as another, and in encouraging him to transfer his affections to Miss Anne de Bourgh think how we might be elevated!_ This thought encouraged her in her plan, but did little to alleviate her nerves. She stalked over to the mantel, and examined the clock, which, it seemed to her, ticked on with ever-increasing fervour and volume, setting her nerves quite on edge. In frustration, she summoned a servant and pointed to the clock.

"Can't you find a more suitable position for that? Its relentless ticking is driving me to distraction."

She glanced over at Charles, half expecting him to question her on her sudden flair for interior decoration, but Charles' attention was once more fixed on the window, yet this time Caroline fancied he saw nought but a blur of activity as he stared out of it. His thoughts were not on the London street, nor London proper. They had fled, as they seemed to do most often, to Hertfordshire, to Longbourn, to Miss Jane Bennet.

Caroline raged inwardly, and turned her attention back to the piano. She reached for a piece of music she knew well and rattled through it at twice speed and three times its normal volume, and was gratified to see Charles at last turn back to her and smile, encouragingly, although his expression was a little desperate and indicated that his ears might appreciate rather less haste and rather more softness of pressure against the black and white keys. Relenting, at last, Caroline segued into a piece she knew better, one that she also knew her brother to be fond of. _There,_ she said, soothing her conscience in easing her brother's apparent discontent. _You see Charles? As your sister, I know only too well what is best for you._


	22. Chapter 22

Philip Fitzwilliam and his wife were out, so it was a particularly contented Richard that greeted Darcy and Elizabeth upon their arrival at his cousin's house.

"You seem better this afternoon," Darcy remarked, as he and Richard stood a little apart from Mary and Elizabeth, who were bent over the piano, Mary playing, and Elizabeth sitting companionably beside her on the stool.

"I'm fine," Richard growled. "Although Mary refuses to be convinced. If a rattle in my chest is all the memento I might keep from the war I shall count myself lucky."

"How dreadfully tiresome it must be for you to have a wife who dotes over you and looks on you with concern when you do not appear entirely well," Darcy remarked, in an amused monotone.

Richard paused, his frown receding into a smile, and then a laugh.

"Right you are, cousin. I am being a bear. But you cannot imagine the monotony of being trapped…here." He glanced around him as if the place itself were causing him to itch, and shuddered.

"Again, I defer to your experience. An elegantly dressed townhouse and freedom from the mundanities of keeping it must be a punishment scarcely worth bearing."

"I'm not sure you ought to have married after all," Richard grumbled. "If all it serves to do is render you so insightful." He scowled at his cousin. "And so damned cheerful."

"I am nought but myself," Darcy said, with a shrug. "If either of us is out of sorts, it is you. What on earth has you wound so tight today?"

"Oh, nothing," Richard said. "I am merely a cantankerous old soldier who is tired of London life and yet staring down another month of it, at least, before we can see green fields and freedom once more." He walked with Darcy towards the window. "Tell me, how is Georgiana? Does she order you and Elizabeth to make the journey to Pemberley?"

"Almost daily," Darcy said, with a smile. "She will have her wish before too long, I expect, although I do not anticipate our travelling there before Christmas."

"Pity!" Richard sighed. "We might have accompanied you, if you did."

Darcy met Richard's eyes with concern.

"Is it so very bad, being here?"

"Mary does not think so. And I wager she is right, being new to the family and thus able to view us without prejudice. But Philip drives me mad! Even in our current state, where we are forced into one another's company for scarcely an hour at a stretch, he spends three-quarters of that time lecturing me on how I ought to comport myself, and the other quarter rattling off the names of people I must endeavour to impress when next we meet…" he rolled his eyes skywards. "Give me Caroline Bingley and Netherfield once more, or give me death!"

"One-half of that is entirely doable," Darcy said, with a small smile. "In fact, our dear cousin is visiting Miss Bingley even as we speak."

"Blessed Anne. She has gone alone?" Richard made as if to turn towards the door. "Ought we to send someone to rescue her?"

"She is quite capable, I am sure, of managing Miss Bingley, and in any case, Charles will keep things calm."

"Charles is a little low-spirited, I fear," Richard said. He had had experience enough of men falling into melancholy that he was well-attuned to it amongst his peers, and his anxiety touched Darcy's heart.

"You are a good man to feel such concern for him, but I think he will rally." He winked. "I rather think he would rally sooner if he might be reintroduced to Jane Bennet, but that is out of my hands just at present."

"I wager you will not leave it out of your hands for long," Richard said, with a glance towards his wife. "Mary has intimated that there is a scheme afoot between her and Elizabeth to contrive to get Jane here sooner rather than later, and the little matchmakers might be put to work once more."

"Then Caroline Bingley will be no match for them, for the combined forces of Jane Bennet's beauty, London and the festive season will no doubt win Charles' heart almost immediately."

"How delighted his sister will be when that happens!" Richard hooted.

Darcy's eyes rested on Elizabeth, as she and Mary abandoned their piano playing for a moment of quiet conversation. How different his wife seemed to him, today. She was lighter, somehow, and happier even than she had seemed when they first agreed to wed. This was the result of his honesty the night before. He could not have dreamed that the intensity of his feelings could ever be returned, and still laughed to recall Elizabeth's confession that she, too, loved him - had always loved him - yet felt certain that it was she who was alone in feeling such affection. He shook his head, a faint smile lifting his features. How alike they were in some ways. He could not believe that the suggestion he had made as a practical one had resulted in so tender a union.

"I trust marriage is treating you well?" Richard asked, seeing Darcy's glance and sensing his thoughts. "Truly I think this is the longest time that I have known you and Elizabeth to spend time together without descending into argument."

Darcy drew in a long, slow breath. He would tolerate his cousin's teasing, for he knew it was meant in good humour, and when he turned towards Richard he saw a genuine smile on his cousin's features.

"I knew a practical match was some polite nonsense you had dreamed up to hide your true feelings a few moments longer. Am I to assume that both you and your bride have abandoned it, now, in favour of the truth? That you love one another, and always have?"

"I would not say that we have _always_ had such an affection…" Darcy countered, wincing slightly as he recalled the dreadful comment he had made of Elizabeth to Charles when first he laid eyes on her. It was a deflection, in part, for he did not wish his friend to see too quickly what Darcy's true feelings were, but even then they had not been love. Interest, perhaps or curiosity, at this quick-witted, dark-eyed creature who, whilst not as conventionally beautiful as her companions, possessed an energy, a spirit that was altogether captivating. That this first impression had merely grown on him the longer and better he came to know Elizabeth made it seem to him that their marriage had always been an inevitability.

"I wonder if Charles Bingley was aware of all he was starting, when he invited me to stay with him at Netherfield."

"I wager his sister certainly didn't," Richard remarked, with a snort. "If Caroline Bingley had had her way, I do not doubt you would be facing an altogether different future." He reached his hand out, gripping Darcy's warmly. "For what it is worth, I think this particular future is much the better, for all of you." He turned towards the ladies, clearing his throat and speaking so that they too, might hear his suggestion. "Now, it is too pleasant a day to be cooped up in here. Why do we not take a walk?" Sensing Mary's protest, he directed the last of his words directly towards her. "Not a long walk, my dear, you must not fret. And I shall wrap up like an arctic explorer, if you wish it. Only let us have some activity, please, or I shall begin clawing at the walls!"


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy and Elizabeth had stayed far longer than was merely polite with Richard and Mary. Indeed, when the time came for the groups to part ways, it was with reluctance, and the promise to meet again soon, if not the very next day. Strolling home arm in arm, Elizabeth let out a happy sigh.

"It is so pleasant to have such friends and family so close."

"Indeed," Darcy agreed. "I feared you might be lonely, trapped in London so suddenly. I see now I needn't have nursed a concern, for with your sister living locally, and my cousin to stay, you do not want for companionship."

"And with my husband by my side," Elizabeth pointed out. "Although I am sure you are tired of my constant presence. You must not feel as if it falls to you to occupy me, William." Elizabeth faltered a little over the name, but its use provoked such a warm smile from her husband that she made a mental note to use it again, and often. She had heard Anne referring to him as William and asked her about it, and upon discovering that even Darcy felt _Fitzwilliam_ far too formal an address from those he truly cared for, had determined that she might use this shortened form. She certainly would not call him _Darcy_ as Richard and Charles were prone to do, but she also did not wish to resort to romantic terms of endearment popularised in novels. All were too elegant, too silly for her pragmatic, sensible husband, and she did not wish to be thought foolish to attempt using them. William suited him best, so William he would be.

"You speak as if there were another place I might prefer to be," he remarked, after they had walked a few more steps in silence. "A fact which I refute. The only place I might prefer would be Pemberley, and that would only be with you by my side. We are married barely a week, I certainly have no desire to abandon you already."

Elizabeth let out a breath she was not aware of holding. She had been nervous, although she certainly would not dream of confessing to it, that William would be only too eager to return to his male-dominated sphere and leave her alone as keeper of their household. She had seen it among her companions that marriage resulted in very little discernible change, and even when the inevitable children arrived, women and men still kept to their invisible quarters, one scarcely reachable by another. When she had convinced herself that their marriage was for show and no more she had sought some refuge in the notion that they would not be forced together more than was necessary, but after the previous evening, when it became apparent that their affection of politeness fooled nobody, least of all themselves, she had dreaded the reality they must now inhabit, of him forever at his club, or socialising with friends, and she trapped at home, more alone than she had been when she ventured to think him little more than a friend.

"I am glad," she said at last. "For although I am grateful to have friends so close by, I certainly do not wish to sacrifice the company of the one person I value above all others, merely that I might play the piano with my sister, or discuss books with your cousin.

They walked on in happy companionship, drawing home before either one of them expected it. Shedding their outer layers, Elizabeth enquired of Anne, wondering if her friend would be eager for some chance to tell of her visit with the Bingleys and not wanting to deprive her of the opportunity to clear her mind before retiring.

"Miss Anne?" the servant asked, turning Elizabeth's question back to her. "Why, she has not come in yet."

"Really?" Elizabeth marvelled. "I felt certain she would beat us back, for we tarried rather too long with Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam." She turned to Darcy. "Did you hear that, William? Anne is still not back from the Bingleys."

Darcy frowned.

"I wonder if Miss Bingley is holding her hostage," Elizabeth joked, as they wandered into the parlour, requesting a tray for some evening refreshments before they, too, would retire.

Darcy smirked at her comment, but the amusement did not linger long on his features.

"I hope no ill has befallen her." He stood and walked towards the window, peering out into the darkened street as if he might, by intention, see her coming and be reassured of her wellbeing.

"I am sure she is quite well," Elizabeth said. "She knows London a little, after all, and Mr Bingley would not have allowed her to return home unescorted, considering the hour."

"You are quite right." Darcy still seemed perturbed. "I wonder, though…perhaps I will send a runner to enquire after her health. If she has taken some turn and decided to lodge there for the evening at least we might be informed of it." The thought gave him energy and he dashed off a note, dispatching it with a servant, and offering a coin and a curt apology for the late hour of the errand.

Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth could relax with the notion that Anne was not safe at home, and Darcy kept his dark gaze fixed on the fire. Elizabeth, agitated with concern for her friend that would not quite die away, despite her insistence to herself and her husband that all was well, began to pace, eager to work out some of her anxiety before attempting to sleep. The peace and comfort they had both felt mere moments before had vanished, and been replaced by an anxiety that would not allow the same calm confidences that had tripped easily from their lips on their return home.

"It was good to see Colonel Fitzwilliam looking well," Elizabeth offered, when she could bear the silence and the waiting no longer.

Darcy nodded, shifting in his seat and, at last, lifting his gaze to her.

"Indeed. I think he is rather too cavalier in his attitude towards his health, and Mary perhaps too easily worried." He smiled, grimly. "Between them, I am sure there is a balance that will serve them the best."

They lapsed into silence once more, and eager for some distraction, Lizzy reached for a book. She had barely found her way through a page before there was a knock at the door, and both she and Darcy lifted their heads as the runner came in, breathless and clutching a note.

"Please, Mr Darcy," the lad said, struggling to get his breathing under control. "Mr and Miss Bingley send their apologies, but say that Miss de Bourgh never did call on 'em today. They said she is not there, and has not been there one single hour today. They've neither of them seen her since last evening."


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N - Here we are, last chapter! At least, last chapter of this book, not of the whole story. I'm already working on the next instalment but it probably wont be ready to share for a little while yet. I am busy trying to get a Christmas story ready in the interim, so will be here sharing in a few weeks._

 _As always, thank you so much for reading - I hope you are enjoying still and will come back for the next book. Still plenty of loose ends to wrap up and I am excited to keep sharing as I write._

 _More soon! :)_

* * *

Darcy's heart constricted with anxiety for his cousin. She had not been to call on the Bingleys all day: that meant she might have been missing for hours, with nobody aware of her predicament.

The runner had been summarily dismissed, for his words had done their job, and goaded both he and Elizabeth into action.

"Surely nothing has happened," Lizzy asked, her face pale with concern. "Anne is -"

"My responsibility, whilst she is staying under my roof." Darcy grimaced. "She did not say anything to you about her plans for the day. Think, Elizabeth. Did she mention any names, any places she might go to other than calling on the Bingleys?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Not a thing. I believe she had plans with another friend…" She frowned, casting her mind back. "She gave no name."

Darcy cursed, and strode towards the door, summoning a servant with the coat he had so recently discarded.

"Where are you going?" Elizabeth asked, clinging to him.

"I mean to go and look for her," he said. "London is not a big place -"

"It is quite big enough!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You have no notion of even the part of it she might have been in. Perhaps she has merely lost track of time, and will return to us soon full of laughter and apologies." Elizabeth spoke quickly, but it seemed to Darcy that she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Perhaps there might be some clue to her whereabouts amongst her things. At least permit me to check?"

He nodded, and Lizzy flew with all haste towards Anne's room. He was grateful at least that he might defer the task of rooting through his cousin's belongings to another young lady, for he certainly would not wish to be charged with such a job. Still, he did not like waiting while Elizabeth searched, and paced angrily about the room. The fire that, mere moments before, had been warmly inviting now felt stifling, and he cracked a window open, gulping in the cold night air and wishing it would clear his already racing mind. It was in this position that Elizabeth found him when she returned, pale and anxious, and clutching a note to her breast.

"What is it?" he asked, turning towards her.

Elizabeth shook her head, wordlessly holding the note out towards him.

"What?" He crossed the room in two long strides and snatched up the piece of paper.

 _My dear Fitzwilliam, and my even dearer Elizabeth,_ he read, the words penned in his cousin's familiar elegant script.

 _You are not to feel any concern for my wellbeing, although I do not doubt it has worried you to come home and find me gone. I apologise for the slight deception, but I comfort myself in knowing it was not an outright lie. I did intend to meet a friend today, but I confess I never did mean to call on Mr and Miss Bingley: you must pass on my apologies._

 _The truth is that I have decided to follow your example and seize hold of my happiness with the two hands God has given me. Mother will never consent to my marrying - and not only because she willed me to wed you, William. She despises the man I love without even knowing more than his name, and every description I gave of him met with more and stiffer disapproval. It was that which brought me so quickly to London, for it allowed me to escape from Mama_ _'s iron grip, and also enabled me to be nearer George._

 _For that is the name of the man I love: George Wickham. It makes me smile to think of your eyes landing on his name, William, for he tells me you have been friends almost all of your lives. What providence that he should be the very man I have fallen in love with!_

 _I know you must be angry that we did not tell you, but knowing how Mama felt about the match he did not think you would be disposed to allow it, and so we take the bold move of making our own decision. I do not doubt you will think me foolish and perhaps I am, but I have lived so long cooped up and playing the part of politeness that I feel I must now have liberty to do as I please or I shall die._

 _We are to be married, George and I, and I hope that your home will be open to us upon our return. I shall write again from Scotland, and until then bid you farewell and thank you for all the kindness you have shown me. I am forever your cousin -_

 _\- Anne_

Darcy's heart constricted. It was a joke, surely? Some lie constructed to cause him pain. Anne could not have been so foolish, so stupid as to allow herself to be enticed away, and by Wickham? How had they even come to meet?

He read the note again scouring it for some sense, some explanation, but finding none he cast it aside with a cry of anger.

"I am sorry," Elizabeth faltered, drawing a step closer to her. "It is not at all what I imagined -"

"And why should you have imagined such a thing?" Darcy asked. "Certainly even in my worst nightmares it had not occurred to me that Wickham would - that he -" He could scarcely finish the thought, but when he looked at Elizabeth her eyes were bright - too bright, and when she spoke she stammered, just a little.

"I had a notion that there was some - that is, I discovered a note, at Rosings…"

"A note?" Darcy drew his eyebrows together, willing his bride to speak plainly that he might understand her words, for he felt as if he were in a dream, and any sense he might grasp was ephemeral and fleeting. He cast a glance towards the liquor cabinet, wondering if a nip of brandy might settle his nerves enough to allow him to think, to plan, to know what to do to prevent this dreadful thing from happening.

Elizabeth nodded, miserably.

"It was in the library, at Rosings. A love note, to Anne, signed…" Elizabeth faltered. "Signed _G_. I thought it was George Martin, and assumed some affection between them, and-"

"And yet you chose to keep the secret to yourself, instead of sharing it with those who cared for Anne, who might have helped her in such a dilemma, who might have prevented this?"

His tone was sharper than he intended, and Elizabeth recoiled. Taking a breath, his next words were spoken with a calmness he did not feel.

"George Martin, I might have tolerated. It would be a pitiful match for her, but he is a good man, there might have been something to be done for him. A property purchased, perhaps, or…" he flung his hands up. "Something, I don't know. But Wickham! It is beyond belief."

Elizabeth ventured to speak again, her words scarcely a whisper.

"He is - he is _not_ your friend, then, as Anne suggests?"

"Emphatically not my friend," Darcy muttered. "The man is a scoundrel, and bent on destroying those close to me." He glanced at the clock on the mantel. "Curse our absence. We have no notion of how long they have been gone. They will not have waited, but perhaps already be well on their way north."

He smoothed the note out once more, and glanced over it.

"I must go after them," he said, eventually. "I might be able to stop this, to put an end to it without word ever reaching Kent."

"You cannot - you cannot mean to go alone," Elizabeth countered, laying a hand on his arm. "Let me come with you. There must be something -"

"I can travel faster alone," Darcy said, coldly shrugging off her grasp.

Elizabeth snatched her hand back, as if burned, and Darcy felt a momentary flash of guilt for dismissing her desire to help. Then he recalled her confession that she had known, or suspected, some romance between his cousin and some unknown fellow and instead of bringing the matter into the light, had proceeded to keep the secret. _What good did she imagine coming from such deception?_ He would not admit that it was her lack of trust in him that stung more than the fact of her keeping a secret.

"I will write as soon as I get the chance," he said, a little kinder. He looked her over, concerned by the pallor that still rendered her cheeks too pale, her features pinched. "Here." He strode over to the drinks cabinet, pouring a thimble full of brandy and another, larger measure. He took the latter, swigging it down and relishing the burning warmth that trailed down his throat. "You have had a shock. You must drink something." He passed her the cup, allowing their fingers a moment to brush one another and not lifting his eyes from her until she obediently drank the measure down. His lips quirked at the grimace of revulsion she made at the taste of the dark amber liquid.

"Are you sure I may not come?" she asked, turning an imploring glance to him. "Surely I might be able to do some good, or -"

"I would rest easier knowing that you are here, and safe," he confided. "I do not yet know what I will find, or even if I will find them." He drew his lips into a line. "I only know I must try."

 _The End*_

 _*of the book, not of the story/series. Next instalment coming soon xx_


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